Disenchanted
by arygon199
Summary: Eragon makes his way back to Ellesmera, where he discovers long kept secrets and a new weapon that could possibly change the fate of the war. Eragon/Arya Murtagh/Nasuada
1. Chapter 1

**Closer: Disenchanted**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. This whole world belongs to Christopher Paolini and part of the title belongs to My Chemical Romance.**

Arya gently slid her hands across the rough scales of her green companion. The dragon, whom she had named Eridor, was sitting comfortably in her lap, gnawing eagerly on the bones of a long-dead hare. He was only a few days old, but his stubbornness and audacity were already quite apparent. Despite that, Arya knew that her dragon was a good one; he had already proven to be a fierce and loyal partner. He knew they would make an unbeatable team once he was old enough to fight.

She couldn't help but smile as she thought back to three days ago- though it seemed so long ago- when Eragon had entered their camp with a look that could only be described as bewildered. She, Roran, Eragon, and Saphira had been on their way to Helgrind to rescue Roran's fiancée, Katrina. They were a few days away from their destination and Eragon had ventured out to search for some water, only to return with anything but that.

He had dramatically pulled out a large emerald dragon egg and placed it calmly next to the fire. Arya couldn't believe her eyes when she saw it. At first she thought it couldn't be true; how on earth could they have received the third and final dragon egg?

Eragon told them he had ran into the one person she knew he never wanted to lay eyes on again: Murtagh.

It seemed Murtagh and Thorn had been assigned by Galbatorix to guard Helgrind with the Ra'zac. Galbatorix had correctly assumed that Eragon would be on his way to save Katrina and he wanted them to capture Eragon and Saphira and bring both of them back to him.

Before Murtagh left, however, he was able to steal the third egg. Murtagh had told Eragon that, for brief periods of time, he was able to free himself from Galbatorix's hold, and it was during one of those times that he was able to successfully hand over the egg to Eragon without Galbatorix finding out.

Eragon had handed her the egg first. He had told her to keep hold of it throughout the night and to wait to see if it would hatch for her. It hadn't; at least not that night.

When they woke up the next morning to a still intact egg, Arya had told Eragon to give it to Roran.

"No," he had said, "Keep it a little while longer."

It was a good thing she did. Right before they were to leave camp, the dragon hatched. They stood in awe at the miraculous sight. The tiny emerald dragon cautiously poked his head through the broken egg, and then stared directly at Arya. She slowly crouched down and stared at him in utter disbelief. Behind her, she could hear Saphira excitingly shuffling her claws into the ground.

And then she touched him.

Arya stared fondly at the small silver opal that had formed on her left palm: the Gedway Ignasia. It still felt so strange to see it there. She wasn't quite sure she had even fully grasped the fact that she was indeed a Dragon Rider.

She could already sense her and Eridor's connection. She felt his emotions and earlier this morning she had even thought she heard him say her name. She knew that he already understood her in ways that nobody ever had. He could hear her thoughts and sense her emotions just as easily as she could herself and she found herself constantly sensing his presence in the back of her mind.

Arya glanced over to the small fire where Roran was quietly soothing his very tired and confused fiancée.

Eragon, Roran, and Saphira had successfully saved Katrina, and destroyed both of the Ra'zac, with Murtagh's help. Arya had reluctantly stayed behind at their make-shift camp a few miles away from Helgrind after Eragon and Saphira had both decided that it would be in both Arya and Eridor's best interest to stay away from the Ra'zac, as Eridor was not strong enough to fight yet. He also did not want to risk anyone finding out that Arya was a dragon rider, particularly Murtagh, who, although unwillingly, would most likely be forced to give up her identity to the king.

They had returned late last night and were quite the mess, but luckily all alive. Eragon had been briefly knocked out by one of the Ra'zac and had a large and bloody incision on his forehead that he was too weak to fully heal. Katrina had been unconscious and it was clear that she had been through horrendous abuse. Black and white bruises covered her body and newer and bloody wounds were scattered throughout her very tiny and starved form. Roran had made it out with only a few minor cuts, but a Lethrblaka had torn up a small portion of Saphira's wing.

Arya managed to heal her wing and with Saphira's help, as well as the small amount of power that Eridor offered, she was able to heal Eragon and, in turn, Katrina.

Katrina woke up the next morning, shocked and confused to find two Dragon Riders, their dragons, and her fiancé staring down worriedly at her. It took awhile to calm her down and explain the whole situation to her.

A familiar voice broke through her thoughts.

"How's he doing?"

She turned to see Eragon sitting down next to her and glancing at the subject in question. She nodded in greeting and looked down at Eridor who was now staring rather oddly up at Eragon.

"He's doing well," Arya said quietly, softly petting her dragon's back. Eragon smiled and playfully flicked the dragon's snout. Eridor snorted and glanced at Eragon, irritation written clearly all over his face.

"You shouldn't tease him, Eragon," Arya said, trying to hide a smile, "he won't be small forever."

Eragon grinned and stared up through the small clearing they were in and into the small patches of sky visible through the trees. He seemed to be entranced by it and Arya could tell he was clearly lost in thought.

She stared at him curiously, hoping it wasn't herself he was thinking about. Arya knew that, despite that fact that he had promised not to pursue her any longer, she was still constantly on his mind.

At the same time, Arya couldn't help but be pleased with the fact. She knew that she carried feelings for Eragon. How deep those feelings were, she did not know, but she knew that they were there and that they were strong. She had known ever since she had left Ellesméra after the Agaeti Blodhren. But could she call it love? She did not know the answer to that either. All she did know was that a romance between them would be a distraction to both themselves _and_ their people. She did not care about the age difference, anymore, though she would never let him know it. No, they simply could not be…At least for now.

"I can't believe Saphira was this little once," Eragon said, distracting her once again from her thoughts. He glanced lovingly over to Saphira, who was sleeping off her meal that she had caught earlier.

"It seems so long ago," he continued.

"It was," Arya said, looking over at him. Their eyes locked and she went on, "You are a changed man, Eragon. You are not the boy from Carvahall who found Saphira's egg. You are truly wise beyond your years; I think anyone will attest to that."

Eragon turned quickly away. She could tell that he struggled to hold in his emotions as he let out a long sigh.

"Thank you, Arya Svit-kona." He nodded in acknowledgment and then abruptly stood up.

"We should start to clean up camp," he said, "Katrina looks able to travel and we should get back as soon as possible." He turned on his heel and headed over to Saphira, where he started to irritably shuffle his things together. She knew he was having a hard time trying to keep himself from showing his affections for her and decided to just let it be.

She turned away and stood up, gently placing Eridor on to the ground. He stared up at her curiously. She just smiled and motioned for him to follow her.

_Arya.  
_

A very quiet voice called to her. She turned quickly around and looked over at Eragon, who she thought the voice belonged to. He was still packing his things and seemed to be in a conversation with a now awake Saphira.

_Arya._

There it was again, this time much clearer. She glanced down at Eridor, who was staring at her with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

_Eridor? _

_Yes._

He had a deep, yet smooth and relaxed tone to his voice.

_You can talk now?_

_I have learned much over these last few days. _

She stared down at him incredulously. It was amazing to hear him finally speak. She noticed Eridor looking wearily over at Eragon.

_He is a troublemaker, that one. _Eridor said.

Arya laughed and glanced over at Eragon.

_He's not so bad once you get to know him, _she said, kneeling down next to Eridor.

He let out a snort as he continued to stare down Eragon.

_Thoughts of him are constantly flowing through your mind. You dream of him and you wonder why. You have strong feelings for him, but you think you cannot admit it to him. He troubles you like no other has before._

Arya stared at him, shocked at his wise, yet rather aggravating words. She did not know what to say. Eridor kept on talking, though, as he moved on to a different subject, leaving that matter alone for the time being.

_I do like Saphira, though. She has beautiful scales. Sapphire. Like her name._

Arya nodded, not fully hearing him, as she distractedly played with the hem of her cloak. She wished that Eridor had not brought Eragon up. Now thoughts of him would never leave her mind and Eridor would most likely bother her about it over and over again until she could take it no longer.

She glared over at Eragon who was now helping Katrina and Roran prepare their things. She couldn't help but notice how tight his shirt seemed and how perfectly formed his forearms were as he casually lifted Saphira's heavy saddle onto her. His disheveled hair and the slight stubble on his chin were all the more attractive and she soon found herself wanting to take him all for herself and kiss him senseless.

She groaned, trying to rid her mind of those thoughts, and strutted angrily over to Saphira, on whom she placed her pack. Roran and Katrina had mounted a horse that Roran had managed to retrieve in Aberon. Eragon and Arya would have to ride on top of Saphira, while Arya held on to Eridor, who was not quite ready to fly along Saphira.

The thought that she and Eragon would be in such close quarters aggravated Arya to no end and she found herself scowling as she took her position on Saphira. Eragon sat behind her, hesitantly placing his arms around her waist. Eridor took his place in her lap.

"Are you alright, Arya?" Eragon asked quietly.

"Fine," she answered curtly as Saphira took off, "just fine."

**A/N: **This is gonna be my first multi-chaptered fic! I'm pretty excited about it. Hopefully you all like it so far. This story is originally called Disenchanted, but there's another story on here by that name and I don't want to confuse anyone!

I originally planned on this story being a short fic, but it's turned out differently. Oh yeah and I should warn you, there is gonna be a lot of Eragon/Arya fluff coming. SO if you hate them together, well, then don't read.

Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!


	2. Chapter 2

They had been flying for hours on end and Arya was getting extremely frustrated. Eragon was in no hurry to land and he seemed to be quite content holding tightly onto Arya. She knew that Roran and Katrina must be far behind them now. The sun was slowly lowering and she could tell that it must be early evening.

Arya clasped tightly onto Eridor as Saphira swooped into crazy dips and dives. She could feel Eragon's arms tighten around her as Saphira pulled a particularly steep dive. She glared at the sapphire dragon and quickly slapped Eragon's hands away from her body. Her legs were strapped tightly to Saphira's saddle and she knew that Eragon holding onto her was not keeping her any safer.

He quickly retreated from his position and placed his hands behind him muttering a quiet apology.

_We should land, now, _she said to Saphira. _We don't want Roran and Katrina to take all night catching up to us._

_You're probably right, Arya, _Saphira responded. _I would have stopped sooner, but I thought you were enjoying the ride._

Arya sighed and rolled her eyes. She could practically hear the laughter in Saphira's voice. Her aggravation rose when Eridor let out a humorous snort.

Saphira slowly descended onto the flat plains that ran miles and miles around them. Arya could vaguely make out the sight of a few trees in the distance.

"We must be nearing Surda," Eragon said as they both dismounted Saphira.

"I saw the Tudosten Lake in the distance while we were flying," Arya replied, "and if that's any consolation, then you must be right."

"We flew past Melian earlier," said Eragon, "so we should be close to the border of Surda. Then it'll only be a couple of days at the most until we reach Aberon. Nasuada will be pleased that we made the trip in such good timing."

_We'll pass the Burning Plains on our way to Surda, _Saphira added.

Arya nodded. "Yes, I wonder if the troops are even all the way back to Aberon. That's a long way to travel with so many. It's only been five days, and they were just getting prepared to leave when we left."

"Aye," Eragon agreed, collecting a few measly scraps of wood for a fire. "Saphira and I thought it best to scry Nasuada and check up on them. They've moved quickly. The last we checked, which was two days ago, they must have been more than half-way there. They should be in Aberon by now."

"Good. Hopefully Nasuada will know what's happening next and have some sort of plan."

Arya crouched to the ground and rummaged through her pack, taking out their food. Eridor, who had quietly settle down next to her, stared eagerly as she took out a loaf of bread.

_Are you hungry? _She asked.

_Yes. _

_You need meat, then. _

_Yes, but you don't have any._

She shook her head. _Roran does, though, but it might be awhile before he returns._

He stood up and lazily stretched, then pranced over to Saphira, who had been quietly watching him from afar.

They exchanged a few words and then Saphira leapt into the air. Eridor glanced back at Arya.

_She is going to take me hunting._

_Be safe and stay out of sight._

And with that he took off, although it was a rather shaky start. He had flown once before, a few days earlier, and Saphira had helped him with the basics. She knew that they would not be able to go far, though, for Eridor could not easily catch up with Saphira.

Her eyes shot over to Eragon, who was grinning at the sight of Eridor trying his best to catch up to a circling Saphira. He looked over at her and let out a light chuckle.

"Cute little pair, aren't they?" he said, grabbing a piece of bread and tossing it into his mouth.

"I suppose so," Arya replied, taking a seat next to him and grabbing a piece of fruit. They ate in comfortable silence.

Roran and Katrina arrived an hour later, tired and hungry.

"After this, I'm never riding a horse again in my life," Roran said as he plopped down next to Eragon. Katrina sat down next to him and Roran absentmindedly wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm afraid that isn't much of an option, nowadays," Eragon said, handing Roran and Katrina a few slices of bread.

Roran chuckled and responded, "You're probably right, brother."

Katrina peered over Roran's shoulder and looked at Eragon.

"I can't believe how much you've grown, Eragon" she said.

"Yeah," Roran agreed, nudging Katrina, "It's hard to believe this is the same little boy who used to have a crush on you."

Arya glanced over at Eragon, whose cheeks appeared to be a few shades redder than normal.

"Aye, that caused quite a few little fights, didn't it, Eragon?" Roran slapped Eragon's back, causing him to choke on the water he had been sipping.

Arya let out a soft laugh. Eragon shook his head in laughter, wiping the drops of water from his mouth, and patted his cousin on the back.

"Well, it looks like you won that fight."

Roran smiled and turned towards Katrina, hugging her close.

"I did."

Arya rolled her eyes as they stared deeply into each other's eyes and slowly stood up.

"I think we need some rest," Roran said, not once taking his eyes off Katrina and leading her away into the darkness.

"Don't go too far!" Eragon called after them.

"I don't think they heard you," Arya said, gazing into the dying fire.

"Probably not," Eragon replied, a small grin forming on his face. He scanned the area around them.

"I'll take first watch," he said.

"No, I can take it; I rested enough on Saphira."

"No," Eragon protested, "let me take it. You can never have too much rest. I'll wait up for Saphira and Eridor."

Arya sighed in defeat, knowing that Eragon probably wouldn't give in, and asked, "Where are they anyway?"

Eragon sat there for a moment, not saying anything. She knew he was talking to Saphira. She silently wondered when she would be able talk to Eridor from so far away. She had not felt his presence in her mind for awhile now and didn't like the feeling of him being away for so long.

"They're heading back now," Eragon replied, "They're about ten miles from here, I think."

"They flew far."

He nodded. "Get some sleep. I'll wake you when they get here."

She lay down onto the hard ground and placed her head on her pack as a pillow. She then slowly shut her eyes, allowing peaceful thoughts to take over her mind as she slowly drifted off.

"Arya!"

Arya groaned as a loud voice woke her from her sleep. She immediately sat up, looking wildly around her. Eragon was kneeling next to her with a very anxious look on his face and Roran was glancing nervously back and forth between a sleeping Katrina and herself. Eridor and Saphira were nowhere to be found.

"What's going on?" she asked, slightly confused by the looks on both Eragon and Roran's faces.

"Saphira and Eridor have spotted a small league of Empire soldiers. There are only about a hundred of them, but they're less than a mile away and they're heading in our direction."

"Where are the dragons?" she asked anxiously.

"A few miles away. They're coming as fast as they can, but I don't think they'll be able to reach us before the soldiers do."

Arya instinctively reached for her sword and pulled it quickly out of her sheath as she stood up. Eragon grabbed his new sword that he had received from the dwarves. It was nothing like Zar'roc, but it was a worthy enough sword for Eragon to wield. Behind him, Roran was clutching his hammer.

"What about Katrina?" he asked.

"When Saphira gets here, she can ride her," Eragon replied, "but until then, you'll have to defend her yourself. You should wake her and inform her of the situation."

Roran nodded and went to wake Katrina.

Eragon's eyes darted to the sky as he grasped firmly into his sword. Arya decided that all they could do now was wait and hope that Saphira and Eridor would arrive before the soldiers did.

Arya wondered why the soldiers were heading this way. Shouldn't they be heading north to their king? If they were a stray group of soldiers from the Burning Plains, then they most definitely would not be heading south to Surda. Did Galbatorix know about her status as a Dragon Rider? Had Murtagh somehow seen her? Were these soldiers sent specifically to find them? All these questions ran through her mind and she found herself both confused and worried.

Ten minutes passed and there was still no sign of Saphira. She could hear the distant sound of heavy stomps and she knew that the soldiers were close. The fire had been put out so that the soldiers could not see their direct location. The full moon cast a shadow on them and it was much lighter than a normal night.

It was then that Arya saw a thick sheet of black striding towards them.

The soldiers had arrived.

"Be ready," Eragon said, raising his sword and glancing at Arya, Roran, and Katrina. Eragon had given Katrina small cutting knife to defend herself with, but Roran had made it his goal to keep her covered at all times.

The soldiers were easily visible now and Arya knew that the soldiers could see them.

Suddenly an arrow shot out from one of the Empire soldiers and Arya knew that the battle had begun.

"Now!" she cried, running directly into the horde of soldiers, Eragon right at her heels.

And the swords clashed.

"Jierda theirra kalfis!" Arya cried, casting the spell at three soldiers in front of her who let out loud moans and fell heavily to the ground. Arya swung her sword at every turn, making sure she eliminated as many men as possible. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Eragon bringing down two other men and Roran swinging savagely at a fat soldier, Katrina staying put closely behind him.

A small man tried to slice at her, but she managed to take his head before he was able to lift his sword. She had time to quickly glance around her. There were around fifty men left standing.

A strange sight caught Arya's eye.

A skinny, heavily armed man was hanging at the very back of the soldier's horde. He was not fighting, but instead seemed to be only watching the battle. She wasn't able to give it much more thought as another soldier came running up to her. She quickly struck him down and continued on fighting.

A loud roar sounded in the distance; Saphira had arrived.

The soldiers were momentarily caught of guard as Saphira's large figure loomed on the horizon and soared fiercely to the ground. Arya could just barely make out Eridor's small figure clinging tightly to the older dragon's back.

Saphira let out a huge burst of flame aimed directly at the Empire soldiers, killing at least fifteen.

Then Arya saw him.

That strange man was sprinting towards her, carrying a long spear and a twisted sword. He was looking her way. The remaining soldiers moved quickly aside as he made his way through the battle.

She glanced ahead at Eragon who was taking care of a few other soldiers. This man did not look like someone you wanted to mess with.

"Arya, how do you fare?" Eragon yelled from a few feet in front of her.

Before she could even respond Saphira's menacing roar rang throughout the battlefield and Arya saw her zooming directly towards her. Confused as to why she was doing this, Arya turned to see the strange man only a few feet from her.

Just as she was about to mutter a spell to attack the man, Saphira soared down and grabbed him by the shoulder, but not before he could thrust his spear toward the nearest target.

"Eragon!" Arya cried as the spear struck through his right shoulder. Eragon cried in pain as the shock of the attack hit him.

Saphira let out another roar as she tore viciously at the man, then dropped him carelessly to the ground and rushed straight to her Rider's side. Everything went silent.

Arya glanced quickly around her. They had done it. All of the soldiers were dead. She was about to head to over Eragon when she heard a low moaning.

A few feet away from her lay the mangled body of the man who had thrown the spear at Eragon. She walked cautiously up to him and then crouched next to him, examining his state.

_Maybe he can provide us with information, _she thought.

The minute he laid eyes on her, he began breathing heavily and muttering feverishly to himself.

"No, no," he said, staring deliriously up at her, "I couldn't have. I thought…" He continued rambling. Arya stared at him in confusion.

"Kill me!" he cried suddenly, as he grabbed fiercely onto Arya's cloak. She gasped in surprise. "Kill me before the king does it himself!"

"What are you talking about?" Arya asked, pushing him off her. But before he could reply, he went deathly still and his eyes rolled backwards.

"Arya!" Roran voice boomed from behind her, "Saphira needs your help healing Eragon!"

She stared down at the man one last time before making her way over to Eragon.

She crouched next to him and placed her hand on his wounded shoulder. Letting the magic flow through her, she closed her eyes and waited for the wound to patch up. She was surprised a few minutes later when it had not healed completely.

She examined the wound closely. The bleeding had stopped, but the wound just wouldn't seem to close. As she looked even closer at it, she could just barely make out little specks of black that lay scattered over Eragon's torn muscle. It looked like his veins.

_It's poison._

Saphira's voice answered the question she had just been thinking.

Eragon, who was slowly slipping into unconsciousness, let out a soft groan.

"Can you do anything about it?" Katrina asked.

Arya shook her head, suddenly feeling nauseous.

"No," she said, "We'll have to get him to Aberon as quickly as possible." She picked up the spear that Roran had carefully pulled out from Eragon's shoulder. She looked closely at the tip, which was splattered with a dark black, gooey substance.

"I don't know exactly what this poison is," Arya said, "but I have a few ideas and none of them bring good news. The healers at the Varden should know and they will be able to help him."

Saphira's head lay right next to Eragon's, as Eragon lightly petted her snout.

"Eragon, how are you feeling?" Arya gently wiped his sweaty brow with her sleeve.

"Tired," he said, quietly, his eyelids flickering, trying to keep them open.

"You're going to be alright, Eragon, we're going to get you to The Varden. You should sleep." He obediently closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh. She stared down at him anxiously and then it hit her.

This was serious.

If they didn't get him to Aberon quickly, he could very well die. She could never forgive herself if he died without knowing how strongly she felt for him.

"Roran," Arya said, not taking her eyes off Eragon, "you and Katrina ride back to Aberon on the horse. I'll ride with Eragon on Saphira."

"But-"

"No, Roran, I know more about poisons than you. I'll be able to help them figure out which one it is." She carefully wrapped her arms around Eragon and began to pull him up. Roran was immediately at her side assisting her. Together, they placed Eragon gently in Saphira's saddle. Arya quickly mounted her and sat behind him, holding firmly onto him. Eridor jumped in front of Eragon and placed his head into Eragon's lap.

As Saphira darted into the air, there was only one question on her mind.

_Why? Why would the king send someone to kill Eragon when killing him would mean killing Saphira, who just happens to be the only chance of keeping the Dragon Riders alive?_

_Maybe Eragon wasn't the target,_ Eridor said simply.

Arya's arms tightened around Eragon and she suddenly felt all the more worried.

**A/N: **I apologize for the poorly written battle scenes. I'm absolutely horrible at writing action stuff, it's not even funny!

Review if you can, it makes my day!


	3. Chapter 3

Saphira dove sharply into the courtyard of Borromeo Castle. Arya jumped off her as soon as they landed, with Eridor following closely at her heels, and looked around the courtyard for someone to help.

A young man rushed up to her and bowed.

"My lady," he said, taking notice of Eragon's unconscious figure aboard Saphira, "I will alert the healers."

Arya nodded in gratitude and then said, "Good, will you make sure Nasuada is informed of our return?"

"Yes, my lady." And with that he jogged off towards the castle.

Arya made her way back to Eragon and watched him closely. He was sweating heavily and shaking slightly in the saddle. He was now leaning on Saphira's neck for support and every now and then would let out a quiet whimper.

It had taken Saphira half a day to reach Aberon and it was now about noon.

Arya vaguely noticed the people staring all around her at the interesting sight. She gently wiped back Eragon's hair as she waited impatiently for the healers to come. He didn't look well at all and Arya's worry was only increasing. She looked over at Saphira, who was quietly staring at Eragon.

_He will be alright, _Arya comforted.

_I hope so. This poison is very strong. He is growing wearier as the minutes go by. I grow weaker with him._

It was then that Arya realized how much strength it must have taken Saphira to get Eragon to Aberon as quickly as she did.

_Saphira! _she cried, _You must be completely worn out. I'm so sorry that I didn't have us stop some more in between. I can't believe I forgot that you were affected by the poison as well._

_Do not fret, Arya. I will be fine. I know that you were busy worrying about Eragon._

Arya wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, so she said nothing and instead focused on Eragon's pale hand, which she was clasping tightly onto.

"Arya, what's happened?" Nasuada was rushing towards them, Angela following closely at her heels and another man, who Arya presumed was a healer, right behind them. She let go of Eragon's hand and went to greet them.

"Eragon's been poisoned," she said simply. Nasuada stared anxiously over at Eragon, before turning to look at Arya in amazement.

"By whom?" she asked incredulously.

"Some sort of assassin, I think."

_Hired by Galbatorix, _Saphira added.

"Galbatorix?" Nasuada questioned, "But why would Galbatorix want to _kill_ Eragon?"

"I don't think it was his intention to kill _him_."

"Then…" she trailed off as her eyes wandered to the small form sitting quietly behind Arya.

"Arya, who's on earth is that?!" Nasuada motioned towards Eridor.

Arya looked down at him. She had forgotten that they did not know of him yet.

"It's a long story," she replied, "but he's mine."

Nasuada gasped and was about to speak when Angela interrupted.

"Arya said it was a long story," she said, "so I think she can tell it to you later. But now Eragon needs some help."

Arya looked back at Eragon and realized that the healer was already by his side examining him.

"We'll get him moved to a secure room," he said, "but until then, I cannot do much for him. Angela, I'll need you to brew the antidote for this poison."

"And what poison is it?" Arya asked nervously.

"I'm not completely sure, my lady, but I think it could be a Blackwood poisoning-"

"Which is a poison in close relation to the one you had endured while imprisoned by Durza," Angela added.

"Yes," the healer continued, "but it is much more powerful and rare. I'm not sure how Galbatorix was able to get a hold of it, but whoever he wanted to kill, he wanted it done fast."

"How long does it take for it to take affect?"

"It depends on the amount used, which is yet to be determined, but even the smallest amount of poison will take only a few days to kill its victim. A large amount can take a life in a matter of minutes."

Arya shook slightly with the intensity of the news.

"Come, Arya," Nasuada said, taking her arm, "we have much to talk about. Eragon will be in good hands."

Arya gazed quickly back at Eragon and nodded reluctantly before following Nasuada, Eridor following closely at her heels.

"So," Nasuada said as soon as they reached her temporary study, "who, might I ask, is this?" She pointed to Eridor.

Arya smiled down at the green dragon, who was sitting loyally next to her and staring mischievously up at Nasuada.

"This is Eridor," she replied, "my dragon."

"How did this happen?" Nasuada asked quietly, almost as if she was in shock.

Arya told her about Eragon's surprise meeting with Murtagh and how he was able to retrieve the egg in secret and bring it to him. She also spoke of Murtagh's duty to help watch over Helgrind and their successful rescue mission to save Katrina.

"Murtagh…" Nasuada trailed off. "So do you think he wants to come back to us?"

"It sound like it, but you should know that he is not at all capable of doing so. At least not until Galbatorix is killed or he finds away to completely escape Galbatorix's control." She paused for a second, trying to gather her thoughts.

"I think that Galbatorix found out from Murtagh that I am a Rider."

"Why do you think that?" Nasuada asked.

"I believe Murtagh saw me and Eridor when he flying over Helgrind. He probably couldn't hide the memory from Galbatorix."

"A stroke of bad luck, it seems," Nasuada murmured. "It would have been nice to have the element of surprise on our side."

Arya nodded and continued, "That is why I think that Eragon was most definitely not the target of the assassin. Galbatorix wants _me_ dead; that poison was meant for me."

Nasuada was quiet for a moment, taking this news in.

"So you're now Galbatorix's number one target," Nasuada stated.

Arya took a deep breath and nodded weakly. Nasuada had said it straight out: she was indeed Galbatorix's number one target. She was not at all prepared for what it would take to evade the king and his minions. It was all a very stressful idea and she wasn't sure she could take it in at the moment; there were simply too many other things to worry about.

"Has anything happened since we left?" Arya asked.

"No," Nasuada replied, "It's been fairly calm since the battle. We made it back to Surda unscathed. For the time being, things shall be rather slow here. We're waiting to here if Galbatorix is going to strike back. If he doesn't, then we're going to have to make some important decisions."

"Like what?"

"We may have to send forces to Uru'baen. Galbatorix seems to be in no hurry to end this war and it looks as if the only way to do so would be to send the war to him. He won't leave his castle otherwise."

"Unless he's up to something very important."

"Yes, you are right there. But nothing except his own life is important to Galbatorix, so I doubt he'll be leaving any time soon."

Arya nodded in agreement. "So, what now?"

Nasuada thought for a moment then said, "I think you and Eridor should return to Ellesméra. You'll need to be properly trained as a Dragon Rider, am I correct?"

"Yes," Arya confirmed, "Though it won't take long; I already know all of the Ancient Language and am highly skilled in both sword fighting and magic. There won't be much to teach."

"That may be, but I think it best for you to return to your home for the time being. You will be safe there and will have a chance to update the elves on the news here."

Arya murmured her agreement. Her safety was guaranteed in Ellesméra. And one thing was for certain-- her mother would be overjoyed with the news of her daughter's new status. But Arya wasn't sure she wanted to go home to a place were she would receive quite a bit more attention than she's used to. When Eragon came with Saphira, most of the elves were thrilled. But if they saw that the next Dragon Rider was an elf, and their own princess at that, they would go crazy with happiness.

She wasn't sure she could handle it unless…

"Will Eragon be coming, as well?" she asked.

"If he recovers quickly, then yes. But I would like you to leave as quickly as possible."

"No," Arya stated loudly and quickly, "I will not go without him."

Nasuada glanced at her curiously from behind her desk, surprised at Arya's outburst.

Arya quickly recovered, saying, "Flying on Saphira will greatly decrease the time of the trip. Without her, it could take weeks to get there. As you can see, Eridor is not quite big enough to fly."

_Right you are,_ Eridor said.

Arya smiled and looked sternly at Nasuada, who was still staring suspiciously at her.

"I suppose you are right. I cannot order you to do anything; I was only giving my own advice. But I must warn you, it could take weeks for Eragon to heal."

"And I will wait," Arya responded firmly.

Nasuada stood up and sighed. "Alright then, I think our business is finished. You should get some rest. I've already had some one prepare a room for you. Jarsha is right outside; he'll lead you to it."

Arya nodded, motioning for Eridor to follow.

"Oh, and Arya," Nasuada said, just as Arya reached the door, "I'll have someone wake you when we have some more news on Eragon's state."

"Thank you," Arya said. And with that, she was gone.

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Arya lay on her soft bed, thinking. Eridor was curled up on the ground next to her bed. It had been five days since they had brought Eragon back to Aberon. The healers had been able to cleanse his body of the poison, which indeed had been Blackwood poison, but he had still not woken up. Angela had told her that it could take a few days for his body to get back to normal and he would wake up when he was ready. Meanwhile, Roran and Katrina had safely made it to Aberon and Roran was busy worrying about his cousin.

Arya still couldn't help but worry that perhaps he wasn't completely healed or the antidote hadn't worked, but Angela always laughed off at her worries and told her to just stop thinking about it and get some rest.

To add to the stress, Nasuada made it clear that Arya was not to leave the castle at any time unless supervised. Arya had to remind her that being watched by both Eridor and Saphira was enough and that Galbatorix certainly wouldn't show up in Aberon any time soon. Nevertheless, Nasuada did not want to take any risks and made sure that Arya was being watched closely, much to Arya's great dismay. Most of the time, she spent her days with Angela or Roran watching over Eragon, but some times throughout the day she would go see Saphira or meet with Nasuada.

So spending time in her room was pretty much the only time Arya had a chance to be even remotely alone.

_You'll never be alone,_ Eridor said, reading her thoughts.

Arya grinned. _I suppose that's a good thing, right?_

_It is a very good thing, _Eridor responded, shifting lazily on the floor.

_You are growing wise, Eridor. It's hard to believe you are only two weeks old._

_Saphira says I am growing much faster than she did. I say I owe it to her. It helps to have another dragon around teaching me all I need to know, something that she did not have when she first hatched._

_Yes, _Arya agreed, _you do have a bit of an advantage there. But it is good that you are growing fast. We'll need your skill and size in order to defeat the king._

Eridor was most definitely growing. He was the size of a large horse now and was no longer able to fit on Arya's bed. At the rate he was growing, he probably wouldn't be able to fit in Arya's _room_ much longer. He was getting increasingly skilled at flying and was able to keep up with Saphira much longer now. Arya hadn't flied with him yet; but she knew she would be able to soon, once he was a bit bigger; she didn't want to tire him out too quickly.

A knock at the door aroused Arya from her thoughts. She walked over to the door and slowly opened it. A smiling Angela stood outside the door with Solembum sitting contently at her feet. The werecat quickly got up, walked over to Eridor, and sat next to him. Solembum had taken a liking to the young dragon and Arya knew that he and Eridor had become good friends over the time they had spent together, while Angela and Arya both took care of Eragon. Sometimes the two, along with Saphira, would disappear during parts of the day, not showing up until hours later. She never expected Solembum to tell her anything, after all he had never even spoken to her, but it annoyed her to no end that Eridor never told her what they were up to during those times.

"Hello there, Arya," Angela said happily, moving briskly past her and into her room. If this was any other person, Arya most likely would have pulled her sword on them. But this was Angela, and Angela was most certainly not any normal person.

Angela walked over to Arya's desk and observed the few pieces of parchment on her desk. She then looked cheerily around the room.

"Nice little place you have here," she said absently.

Arya couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed with Angela. She always loved to beat around the bush and today was no exception. Arya knew that Angela would tell her what ever exactly she came to tell her in time, so she decided to wait it out.

"How is Elva doing?" Arya asked.

Eragon had healed Elva of the curse he had placed on her before they left for Helgrind. He had been successful and Elva was now an enthusiastic young toddler.

"Oh she is doing wonderful," Angela replied, "although I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do with her. She has no parents, so she's still living with me. I'll have to find a place for her someday, I suppose. She's utterly useless now that she's _normal_."

"I wouldn't say she's useless," Arya said, "she just like any other child. Maybe you could train her, make her your apprentice."

Angela shrugged. "That's a thought. She is a sweet child, though." She chuckled. "Kind of reminds me of myself when I was younger. I guess that's what she gets for sticking around me for so long!"

Angela stared at her thoughtfully before moving to the door and pulling it open.

"I'll be seeing you, then," she said mischievously, as she quickly left the room, leaving Solembum behind.

Arya stared at the closed door wildly.

_What was that about?!!_

Suddenly the door was open again and Angela poked her head through.

"Oh," she said smugly, "I almost forgot to tell you, Eragon's awake."

Before Arya could even say anything, Angela had closed the door.

Arya stood there, momentarily surprised, before rushing out the door and heading towards Eragon's room.

She couldn't help but notice, as she reached his room, that she was feeling slightly nervous. Eridor had not followed her and the idea that she would be the only one in the room with Eragon was most likely the cause of these feelings.

Eragon was lying silently in his bed, staring thoughtfully up at the ceiling. As soon as he noticed her, he grinned widely and tried to sit up, but Arya gently pushed him down and told him to take it easy.

"Arya," he said quietly as she sat down in a chair next to him, "I don't know how to thank you. Saphira told me all that you did for me and I want you to know-"

"It was nothing, Eragon," Arya said, cutting him off, "You should be thanking Saphira; she did all the work."

Eragon smiled, "Yes, well, nevertheless, I appreciate your concern. Angela told me you've been watching over me quite consistently these last few days."

Arya suddenly felt very embarrassed and she frowned. "You are a good friend, Eragon, and I was concerned."

Eragon's smile faded. "Of course, Arya, I meant nothing by it."

She lightly smiled, "Don't worry about it, Eragon." She felt guilty for making him feel bad, but she still didn't want to give him any ideas, although she knew it was too late for that. Anyone who had seen her these past few days could see that the Dragon Rider before her was always on her mind.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm feeling alright, I suppose," he said, smiling once again. He rubbed his shoulder where the spear had struck him and continued, "My shoulder is rather sore, but it should get back to normal sometime soon."

"Good," she said, "You need that arm."

"Yes," he chuckled, "I would hate to lose it. Imagine what it would do to my sword fighting."

Arya laughed slightly. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Eragon spoke again.

"So what did Nasuada have to say about Eridor?"

Arya told Eragon of Nasuada's reaction and of their discussion in Nasuada's study. She also told him about the assassin's final words.

"So," Eragon said, after she had explained everything, "You think that the assassin was supposed to kill you?"

She nodded.

"That seems plausible," Eragon murmured, "Then we should return to Ellesméra. You'll be safe there."

"I don't need to protected, Eragon," she replied stubbornly.

"That may be," Eragon replied firmly, "but now is not the time to take any chances."

Arya stared at him for a moment before turning quickly away. When had he become so confident around her? He used to always give in to her; always agreeing with her in most matters, even if he didn't necessarily agree with all of her opinions. He never wanted to anger her, just please her. But now he wanted to do things his way. The idea made Arya oddly proud of him. He didn't lean on her anymore; he was his own man.

At the same time, Arya knew that this made her even more attracted to him. She knew if he kept this up, she wouldn't be able to hold her feelings in for much longer.

But why couldn't she just _tell_ him? She was not worried about being rejected, that was certain. But she had told herself over and over again that they could not be together for many different reasons. She was too old and he too young, they would be distracted, their races would not agree; it just would never work out. And of course there was Faolin.

The two of them had been deeply in love before he had been killed. She had thought he was her soul mate, but she was wrong and now she had to face it. She was worried that being with Eragon would be an insult to her former lover's memory, but at the same time she knew that Faolin would have wanted her to be happy, just as she would have wished for him.

This thought made up her mind. She _needed_ to tell Eragon of her feelings for him. Who knew how much time either of them had left and Arya would regret it for the rest of her life if Eragon died without knowing her true feelings. Eragon's injury had introduced her to a tiny glimpse of the horror of living life without him and she knew that she could waste no more time wallowing in all the pros and cons of being with him. So what if he was a lifetime younger than him? Who cares what the elves would think of their relationship? This was her own decision, not theirs, and she had spent too long caring about what others would think than concentrating on her own personal feelings.

"Arya?" Eragon asked, startling her out of her thoughts, "Are you okay?"

She let out a deep breath and looked at him seriously.

This was it.

"Eragon, I-"

"Eragon, you've finally awoken!" The door had burst open revealing a very excited Roran. He ran over to greet his cousin.

Roran began asking him all sorts of questions, all of which Eragon quietly answered. He kept on glancing anxiously over at Arya, who was very irritated by the interruption. Roran had the worst possible timing.

Arya decided that telling him could wait. Roran seemed to be in no hurry to leave and so she quietly escaped the bedroom, glancing back at Eragon, who smiled at her helplessly as she shut the door.

Arya couldn't help but feel angry as she fell back into her bed a few minutes later. She had just lost her best chance to tell him. She had been ready to do it. But would she be able to gather up enough courage to tell him later on? She hoped so. She wasn't sure if she could take it much longer, but all she could do was wait.

**A/N: **Here it is. This took me forever to write because I kept on getting distracted, but I also really wanted to make it good. I hope it met your expectations.

By the way, I really want people's advice on this story. If there are some things you can see that I need to work on, tell me! I really want to be a better writer and I'm gonna need your help to do so. All I ask is that you don't flame me. I'm more into _constructive _criticism.

Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning found Arya sitting quietly with Eridor outside of the castle. Nasuada would have fully disapproved if she had known that Arya was currently sitting by a slowly drying up river hidden by the numerous trees that surrounded Borromeo Castle. She was outside the walls now, not to far away though, but enough to get some privacy. She had flown on Eridor for the very first time and he had brought her here. He could tell that she needed some time to think.

_How are you feeling?_ He asked.

She shrugged. She was still annoyed at the fact that she hadn't been able to talk to Eragon about her feelings for him. She had tried to see him again last night, but Nasuada had been visiting with him and it seemed to be a serious conversation, so she decided to wait awhile longer.

And now waiting was really starting to really get on her nerves.

_Annoyed,_ she answered honestly.

The dragon shook his tail humorously and answered, _That is to be expected._

Arya rolled her eyes. _Maybe Eragon and I are just not meant to be. Perhaps that's what the fates were trying to tell me when Roran came bursting into the room or when Nasuada was speaking to Eragon earlier._

Eridor snorted. _I don't think so, Arya. I think you've just been having bad luck. Maybe if you can get him completely alone with no distractions._

Arya shook her head and replied, _Which has been impossible, lately._

_Then you're just going to have to wait._

Arya sighed. _I've gotten quite good at that during these past few days._

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Later that evening, Arya made her way to Nasuada's study. Nasuada had just sent for her and said that it was rather urgent. Eridor was out hunting with Saphira, although she knew he would be listening intently into their conversation.

"Hello, Nasuada," Arya said as she entered the room.

"Arya," Nasuada said, standing up to greet her, "have a seat." She motioned to the small chair that sat in front of her desk.

Arya obliged and turned quickly to Nasuada. "What did you need to talk to me about?"

"I've spoken to Eragon," she began and Arya couldn't help but throw her tiny glare. Nasuada didn't seem to notice. "And he's agreed that as soon as he fully recovers, you two should return to Ellesméra."

Arya was tempted to tell her that she and Eragon had already somewhat discussed this, but she decided to just let it be.

"Is that all?" she asked.

"No," Nasuada replied wearily, "Now I know you're not going to be pleased with me, but both Eragon and Saphira, as well as myself, have agreed that you and Eridor should remain in Ellesméra until we receive further news of Galbatorix's plans."

Arya glared at her. "I don't think that's your decision to make."

Nasuada sighed. "I knew you were going to say that, Arya. Maybe you should speak to Eragon on this matter. _He _could probably persuade you."

Arya stared at her, at a complete loss for words.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" she angrily said.

Nasuada stared at her firmly and replied, "It simply means that he has more influence over you-"

"Influence? What-"

"You and he are much closer than you and I," Nasuada said in a more hesitant tone. "I thought that you would listen to his reasoning with a more open mind than you would listen to mine."

Arya sighed and shook her head. "I don't know where you got that idea."

She vaguely noticed Nasuada roll her eyes, as if saying the whole thing was quite obvious. _But_ _then_ _again_, Arya reasoned, _it probably_ _is_.

Arya wasn't quite sure why she was so irritated at the concept of Nasuada's plan. It wasn't a horrible thing, that was certain. She didn't know how long they would have to stay there, but a bit of peace that Ellesméra could easily bring would do her good.

But at the same time, she knew she would hate the feeling of being almost completely cut off from the real world. Would she even receive news about what was going on? Or would she have to wait until the last minute? She was also unsure if Eragon would be free to go while she stayed behind. That thought extremely agitated her; she didn't think it would be fair at all. After all, they were both Dragon Riders with equal duties and rights.

"How long will I have to stay?" Arya asked grudgingly.

"It could be a few weeks," Nasuada calmly replied, "or it could be a few months. But Arya, I promise you that you will be constantly informed of all the developments here. You will not be kept in the dark. Also, Eragon and Saphira will also be in Ellesméra most, if not all, of the time you are there. I would not ask you of this if I did not think it was necessary."

Arya closed her eyes and slowly nodded. Perhaps it wouldn't be _so _horrible.

"Alright," she said, standing up.

"Thank you!" Nasuada said, standing up with her and quickly walking around to her and giving her a hug.

Arya smiled slightly as they both pulled away.

"It won't be too bad, Arya, you'll see. We'll have you back here in no time. Although, from the little Eragon has told me of your city, I'm not quite sure why you'd ever want to leave there."

Arya shrugged. "I have my reasons."

After saying their goodbyes, Arya decided that she was in no mood to talk to Eragon. She had had a long day and all she wanted to do was rest.

_What do you think of these recent developments?_ Arya asked Eridor.

_I think that we will be safer in Ellesméra_. _We are extremely important when it comes to getting rid of Galbatorix once and for all and I think it is wise not to take any chances._

_Yes, _Arya agreed, _once again, you are correct._

_I always am._

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Three days later, Arya was sitting down by the river in the same spot she had been days before. She had started coming here often during the past few days; most of the times when she was feeling stressed or just needed some quiet time. Eridor had not come with her today; she had insisted to come alone and he did not persist. She had found a route to get to the river from the palace and, although it was crowded with overgrown weeds and scattered branches, it was fairly easy to navigate.

She had gone to see Eragon a few times since he had first woken and he was recovering nicely. Each time she had gone to see him, her nerves kept on getting the best of her and she found she was not able to speak to Eragon about her feelings for him. Often times during her visits, she would come up with many excuses in her mind as to why she was unable to tell him. The most constant of those excuses was the fact that there happened to be no privacy in Eragon's room. Angela or another healer always seemed to be coming in and out of his room and Arya was not keen on any of them overhearing or interrupting their conversations.

Eragon and Arya talked little about their upcoming trip to Ellesméra. Arya suspected that Eragon thought it was a rather touchy subject for her. Nasuada probably had something to do with those thoughts.

They did talk about Eridor and his progress and of Eragon's current condition. Sometimes they talked about Galbatorix and even Murtagh, but mostly they talked about less serious matters. Eragon would give her tips for flying on Eridor and sometimes, especially when Roran would join them, Eragon would tell her about some of the people in his village or some of his and Roran's childhood adventures.

Arya couldn't help but feel comfortable around Eragon. He was one of the few people that she actually found easy to talk to. He didn't pressure her to talk about certain things and she didn't pressure him. That was how it went.

But she knew things would have to change if they ever were to have a more _intimate_ and personalrelationship. She would have to tell him much more about herself for him to truly know her. Eragon certainly had no problem sharing his life with her and she found herself wishing that she could do the same as him.

"What are you thinking about?"

Arya jumped as a startling voice from somewhere behind her spoke. Arya instinctively reached for her sword and turned around to greet the intruder.

She was completely shocked to see Eragon staring innocently at her.

She sheathed her sword. "Eragon," she asked quietly, "what are you doing here?"

He laughed at her shocked expression and spoke in the Ancient Language, "The healers said I was free to go. They say I've recovered quite nicely."

Arya couldn't help but smile as she joined him in her native tongue. "How did you know where I was?"

"I came looking for you after I was released. I found Eridor out with Saphira, but he said you'd gone. He told me where to find you and so I decided to journey out here to come and see you." He grinned. "I don't think Nasuada would be happy if she knew where you were."

"Then let's make sure she doesn't find out."

Eragon nodded and let out a light chuckle before becoming suddenly serious.

"Arya," he said, "I couldn't help but notice that you've been a bit distant in your recent visits." He took a seat next to her on the large rock that she was currently sitting on.

She turned to look at him, but didn't know what to say. Should she tell him now? They certainly wouldn't be discovered; it was just the two of them. Suddenly she felt extremely nervous.

"I have had quite a few things on my mind," she murmured. It was the truth.

He nodded and looked casually over at the river.

"I just…" Eragon said, before trailing off.

"What?"

"I-- when you-- before Roran interrupted us, when you came to see me after I had awoken, I thought you were going to tell me something… But maybe I was imagining things."

She sucked in a deep breath but did not say anything. She could not lie to him anymore.

"I was, actually." She smiled. "Your cousin has impeccable timing."

It was a few more moments before she spoke again, but Eragon waited patiently, knowing she had to gather her thoughts.

"Eragon," she began slowly, not knowing exactly where to start. She soon decided to just start at the beginning. "You know that when I was ferrying around Saphira's egg I was also traveling with two other elves. One, I told you, was Glenwing, the other was Faolin." She paused.

Eragon took the opportunity to speak. "You did not tell me much about Faolin."

"No," she said, "but I will tell you now. Faolin was my mate." She waited to see Eragon's reaction, but his face remained expressionless.

"We had been together for almost two decades and I loved him more than I could ever imagine," Arya continued, "but, as you know, our love could not last forever. When he was killed, I didn't even have time to mourn. Durza captured me and poisoned me and during that time I had little chance to even think about his death. Looking back, I think I am somewhat grateful that I did not dwell on his death so quickly after it occurred. I suppose I had some time to get over it. It was hard, though, after I had recovered from the poison to come to the realization that he was truly gone. There was no more poison to distract my thoughts. I thought I could never love again. I don't think I even _wanted_ to love…

"But I am done mourning over the dead. I know that he would not have wanted me to live such a cold and isolated life, never sharing my feelings with others or being open to new relationships. It is hard losing someone you love, as you well know, but I've recently learned that you cannot drown yourself in their memories. Faolin is gone and I've moved on and, while I'll never forget him, I have proven myself wrong and fallen in love again."

Eragon gazed at her intently, sucking in his breath. Arya gently brought up her hand to his face, brushing his cheeks, and stared directly into his eyes.

"Eragon, I know that I have hurt you in the past. I told you that we could not be together, that I was much too old for you and that the elves would look down upon us. I know now that those things don't matter. It's what you and I want that matters.

"I don't know when it happened, but I've fallen in love with you. I didn't know it that night during the Agaeti Blodhren, but I know it now and I know I was incredibly foolish to ignore it. When you were almost killed by that assassin, I couldn't help but think about how I would have felt if you _did _die. How would I be able to live knowing that you never knew of my true feelings for you? It was then that I decided that I need to tell you. I couldn't waste anymore time holding these feelings in. It would be unfair not only to you, but to myself."

He placed his hand on hers and slowly brought it to his lips. She could feel the tears brimming in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

"I know that you've wanted this and you've been so amazingly patient with me. I don't even deserve you, but if you agree to it, then I want us to be together. I love you, Eragon."

She had finally said it and she couldn't believe how easy it had been.

"Arya," Eragon began, clearly at a loss for words, "I love you, too."

She grinned as she slid even closer to him, "Yes, I think I knew that."

He wore a sloppy smile as he gently placed his hand on the crook of her neck. They slowly moved closer and closer until their lips almost met. Before she could say anything, his lips met hers in an explosive kiss. Their tongues danced around each other, wanting more, and her hands roamed freely around his upper body. But too soon, he pulled away. She knew that he needed to say his part.

"Arya," he said quietly, staring lovingly into her eyes, "You know the depths of my love for you. You know that I would do absolutely anything for you. This…this is something I've dreamed of for a long time, now." He looked at her hesitantly. "Promise me you won't change your mind about us. I wouldn't be able to stand it."

A tear slid down her cheek. "Eragon," she said hugging him close to her, "I will _never _change my mind. Ever."

He sighed contentedly and gently strung his hands through her hair. They stayed there like that, holding onto each other, for a few minutes before Arya brought him in for another kiss. This kiss was less passionate than the other, but their love for each other was clearly made known through the pleasure of that simple kiss. It lasted longer than the other. They moved together in an almost synchronized motion. Arya was actually surprised at how experienced Eragon seemed to be at it. She would have to ask him about that later.

But now…now was just about them. For just those few moments, it was just her and Eragon in this world. All that mattered was their love for one another.

Time quickly went by and Arya knew that they should head back to the castle. The sun was slowly setting as night set in and she knew that their absence would soon be noticed.

She gently pulled Eragon up. He placed his hands on her waist and brought his head down to her. He was taller than her, she noticed, only by an inch at the most, but it was still noticeable enough now that they were so close to each other. He pulled her in for a brief kiss before leaning towards her, their foreheads touching.

"We have to get back. Nasuada will worry," Arya said regretfully.

Eragon moaned softly. "Let her worry."

"Eragon, we can't stay here forever," she said, smiling.

"I wish we could."

Arya lightly brushed her lips against his. "Come," she said, taking his hand and leading him up to the path towards the castle.

Eragon let out a loud sigh before reluctantly giving in.

As they made their way into the castle, Arya couldn't remember the last time she felt so happy. She knew that their relationship was something special and yet it was so much different than it was with Faolin. Eragon had been loyal to her since before he even met her. She found it so hard to believe that she had been denying him for so long.

She looked over at him and noticed that he seemed to be wearing a permanent smile. He looked over at her and his smile deepened.

Men and women still wandered through the castle halls and Eragon quickly pulled her aside.

"Do you think we should go out there like this?"

She grinned. "We have to do it sometime."

They made their way, hand in hand, towards Arya's room. Some people looked their way with raised eyebrows, while others didn't even notice.

Arya couldn't help but feel a little disheartened as they reached her door. She didn't want to leave Eragon, but she knew that they would have to part ways eventually, if only for a couple of hours.

"Arya," he said quietly, tucking a piece of stray hairs behind her ear, "Thank you…thank you for everything."

She grinned. "No, thank _you_, Eragon, for giving me chance that I truly didn't deserve."

Eragon kissed her before slowly pulling away.

"It is I who doesn't deserve _you_. But let us call truce and just say we _both_ don't deserve each other."

"Yes," she laughed, "I can do that."

"Good night, Arya," he said, turning away.

"Good night," Arya softly replied.

Arya felt much like a lovesick young girl that night as she lay in her bed. The thought of it annoyed her to no end, after all she was not the type of person to be _lovesick_, but at the same time she couldn't help but feel extremely happy.

She already didn't like the idea of being away from him, but she knew that their time together would be plenty. They would be going to Ellesméra and during that trip they would be together constantly. Their relationship might prove to be difficult for others in Ellesméra to understand, but she knew they would come around, although she had no idea what her mother would think of it.

Yes, their relationship was just the beginning of something that would be truly extraordinary; something that she knew would be strong enough to outlast empires.

**A/N: **Catch that last line? Yeah that's pretty much Angela's prophecy about Eragon's epic romance. Arya fits the description, don't you think? But I'm sure you don't really need me telling you that!

I'm not normally one to complain but this story has gotten around 511 hits and only 3 reviews… Come on guys, it's really not hard to review. I'm not forcing you to review (trust me I'm totally grateful that your even taking the time to read this story), but I would love some feedback. Anything is good. So, review if you can and thanks to those three who have reviewed so far.

Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Eragon's POV**

Eragon woke early, only a few minutes after the sun had risen. He was slightly surprised that he did not feel the need to sleep any longer; he had not gotten much sleep last night. Instead, he had spent much of his time thinking of the beautiful raven-haired elf who had stolen his heart.

It was still so hard to believe that a woman of her stature and elegance could possibly love someone as lowly as him.

_I wouldn't call a Dragon Rider _lowly_, Eragon, _Saphira had reminded him earlier.

Still, Eragon couldn't help but fear that last night had been a wonderful dream, although he knew that it was most certainly not a dream. Everything that had happened had been real and just thinking about it gave him goose bumps.

His mind kept straying to the kisses they had shared-- her soft and so sweet lips against his; it was the most amazing feeling he had ever endured.

A knock sounded at the door. Eragon practically jumped from his bed and quickly threw on his shirt. He had a suspicion it was just the woman he wanted to see. The thought made him smile.

But as he opened the door, he was surprised to see that it was none other than Nasuada.

"Oh, hello, my lady," he stuttered. He couldn't help but feel disappointed.

"Hello there, Eragon," Nasuada said sweetly, noticing his surprised expression. "Were you expecting someone else?"

He let out a weak laugh. "Well, I wasn't really…" He trailed off.

Nasuada chuckled. "May I come in? This will only take a second."

Eragon nodded, curious as to why she need to see him at this early hour.

"I've already spoken with Arya this morning," she said.

"You've spoken with her already? But it's so early."

"Well, I don't think Arya was very tired. I was up before the sun even rose. I had to help King Orrin get ready for the court he holds with his people. Anyway, Arya mentioned that you were now ready to take on the journey to Ellesméra. She thought it best if you leave early today."

"Oh," Eragon said, slightly surprised. "Okay."

Nasuada glanced at him curiously. "You have no objections?"

Eragon smiled. Of course he had no objection to traveling almost nonstop with Arya, riding together on top of Saphira, wrapping his arms protectively around her, never having to leave her side, kissing her all he wanted…

"Eragon?"

"Oh," Eragon said, breaking out of his reverie, "sorry. No objections at all, my lady."

"Alright then," Nasuada said. She made her way to the door before slowly turning back around.

"Eragon," she said hesitantly, "I have to ask. I've heard a few rumors this morning. Is it true that you and Arya have finally come to— I mean to say that you two are involved…romantically?"

Eragon raised his eyebrows. How did the news get out so quickly? Why did people even care? Well, the both of them just happened to be Dragon Riders and she was also an elf, so people might be curious.

He knew, though, that Nasuada deserved to know of their relationship.

"Yes, Nasuada, the rumors are true."

Nasuada smiled widely. "Good," she said, "you both deserve to be happy. Arya's life has not been easy on her, and neither has yours. It is good to know that you two will be there for each other during this hard time. May you have many years together."

And with that, she left.

As Eragon watched her leave, he felt somewhat relieved that Nasuada approved of their relationship. It was good to let her know so soon, after all, she was one of his closest friends; she was like a sister to him, actually.

_You should get packing,_ Saphira said, distracting him from his thoughts.

_Yes, _Eragon agreed, _I should._

_Eragon, _Saphira said. He could hear the laughter in her voice. _Is this how it's going to be now? You constantly thinking about Arya and nothing else?_

Eragon laughed. _It's been like that _long_ before last night._

_Yes, _Saphira agreed, _just don't get too distracted. You have many other important things to concentrate on._

Eragon nodded, silently agreeing. His thoughts strayed over to what would happen once they reached Ellesméra. He wondered how Oromis and Glaedr were doing. Would they be healthy enough to teach both him _and _Arya? It was a lot to take on and Eragon knew that the two of them grew weaker and weaker with each passing day.

Another thought swept through his mind. How long would they need to be in Ellesméra? He knew that they would grow restless there. He wanted to be where the action was, and Ellesméra was surely not that place.

He sighed, a bit frustrated, and began packing his things.

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Later that day, Eragon and Saphira waited impatiently for Arya and Eridor to join them. They were waiting privately with Nasuada and King Orrin just outside the castle and Arya was late. Eragon smiled, knowing that elves never really cared about time and that Arya never _was_ punctual anyways.

"Hmmm," Orrin muttered, glancing around for a sign of Arya, "where is that elf? I've got courts today, you know."

"Yes, we know," Nasuada sighed, "and you really don't have to be here, either."

"Of course I do," he scoffed, "it would be an insult to the Riders!"

"Really, it wouldn't," Eragon said, trying to hide a smile. Orrin was as stubborn as ever.

"But I'm grateful to have you here," he added when Orrin gave him a slightly confused look. Orrin nodded happily and went back to his thoughts.

A few minutes later, Arya and Eridor arrived.

"Finally," Orrin murmured loudly enough for all of them to hear. Arya sent him a tiny glare as she went to greet the others.

Eragon's sucked in his breath as she walked towards him. She looked as beautiful as ever, her hair pulled back elegantly and her green cloak flowing majestically behind her as she walked.

"Good, you're here," Nasuada said, smiling. Arya looked up at him as she stood by his side and grinned slightly. He smiled back, the memory of the night before fresh in his mind.

"Now," Nasuada went on looking at Saphira and Eridor, "You will need to stay completely out of sight, especially you two." She glanced at Arya and her dragon. "I don't think you should go anywhere public, Arya. No towns or cities. The king will have people looking for you left and right."

Eragon sighed; he knew how that went.

"Will you be flying on Eridor?" Orrin asked Arya, "he still seems a bit small don't you think?"

Eridor snorted.

"Perhaps," Arya replied, "but not right away and most definitely not the whole time. He'll need his energy if he's planning on keeping up with Saphira."

Eragon played with the tip of his sword idly.

_I should get a new sword once we get to Ellesméra,_ he said vaguely to Saphira as Orrin went on about something completely irrelevant to their trip.

_Yes, your sword is good, but it is nothing compared to the elves._

_And their swords are nothing compared to Zar'roc,_ he said, not able to help the small hint of venom in his voice. He hadn't been proud when he found out that it was the sword of Morzan, but it had proven to be a worthy partner in times of need. And then it was stolen from him by his very own brother.

When it came to Murtagh, Eragon wasn't quite sure what to think. He knew that he was an ally, but at the same time there was no way he could trust him with any important information. This certainly wasn't Murtagh's fault though; Galbatorix was constantly in his head. Eragon couldn't imagine how terrible it would feel to have the constant presence of pure evil sifting through his head. The thought alone made him shiver.

Then there was also the added fact that Eragon just happened to be the second son of Morzan. He couldn't even think about that without getting angry and resentful. It was so hard to believe that a man as evil as Morzan could _possibly _be his father. But it was unfortunately true and Eragon would just have to learn to accept it.

_In time, little one, you will find the perfect sword. Zar'roc was simply not meant for you. And I think you forget that Zar'roc is elven made._

"Well, then," Orrin said, breaking through Eragon's thoughts, I think it's about time we sent you off. Nasuada and I have much to do today."

Out of the corner of his eye, Eragon noticed Nasuada almost unnoticeably twitch.

"Yes," Nasuada said, "I suppose you four should get going." She hugged Arya and then gently patted Eridor and Saphira's snouts before making her way to Eragon, whom she warmly embraced.

"I will miss you all," she said quietly.

"And we will miss you," Eragon said, smiling down at her.

"Yes, we will" Arya agreed, stepping over to Saphira and placing her bags on her saddle.

"Be sure to keep us informed," she added as she climbed on top of Saphira's back.

Nasuada chuckled lightly. "Of course, Arya."

"Ahem."

Eragon, who had been making his way onto Saphira, looked back at Orrin who was nodded cheerfully at him.

"Thank you for your hospitality during this time, King Orrin," Eragon said, grinning at the king politely.

"It was my pleasure, Argetlam," Orrin replied sincerely. "Please be safe, though. We need all of you more than ever."

"We will," Eragon said, wrapping his arms around Arya.

Saphira leaped gloriously into the sky, leaving behind the beautiful castle and city which Eragon had grown to appreciate. He glanced back at the now small speck that was Borromeo Castle one last time, before settling comfortably behind Arya.

"I thought we would never leave," Arya said, turning her head slightly to look at him.

Eragon laughed. "We could have been gone ages ago if you'd come arrived on time," he said playfully.

She simply shrugged, smiling slightly, and leaned her head against his chest.

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As the sun began its descent, Saphira slowly lowered to the ground with Eridor following very wearily behind her.

_How's Eridor doing?_ Eragon asked Saphira.

_He is very tired, but he grows stronger with each passing day. He'll be able to keep up with me in no time._

_Good, we need his strength, _Eragon replied before adding, _You must enjoy his company._

_It is nice._

Eragon chuckled. _Just nice? Saphira, you must realize that he is most likely the reason that the Riders will live on._

_Eragon, _Saphira said, clearly annoyed, _you know I know that. But he is still so young; I try not to think of him that way. I think I now know how Glaedr felt._

_He has tried to pursue you?_

Saphira laughed. _Not really, I suppose. He used to follow me around all the time back in Aberon, though. It was getting rather annoying actually._

Eragon gently laughed as they landed and playfully nudged Saphira's neck.

They had traveled far today, despite Eridor holding them slightly back. They were camped only a mile or two away from the southern end of the Hadarac Desert, which they planned on flying straight through to get to Ellesméra.

Arya made a fire when they were settled and Eragon pulled out some of their food as he sat down next to her.

_We are going to hunt,_ Saphira said. _There is not going to be much food in the desert, so it is best if we load up now._

_Aye, _Eragon agreed, _but stay safe and stay out of sight._

_Of course, little one. _

With that, both she and Eridor took off, quickly disappearing into the night.

Eragon settled down quietly next to Arya, who was huddled next to the fire. She turned to look at him, a smile on her face.

"Here," she said, handing him a fresh apple.

"Thanks," he responded, taking a bite, "it's been awhile since I've had one of these."

Arya grinned and handed him a slice of bread and his water skin.

"You don't find many of those in Ellesméra," she said, "so take advantage of it."

He sighed contentedly, savoring the taste of the fruit. Arya moved closer to him and gently placed her hand over his. Eragon couldn't help the wide smile that overtook his face. He certainly had been smiling a lot lately.

He turned to her, his apple quickly forgotten, and brushed his lips against hers, all the while holding closely onto her.

They sat there silently for awhile, exchanging brief and sweet kisses, just enjoying each other's presence.

Eragon broke the silence.

"What do you think your mother will have to say about…us?"

Arya lightly shrugged. Her head was currently lying on Eragon's shoulder and she didn't seem to be in the mood to talk.

"I don't know."

"Do you think she will be angry?"

"She could be."

"I wonder what the other elves will think."

Arya sighed. "We'll find out soon enough."

Eragon decided not to push the conversation any further. Arya was tired and so was he.

"I'm going to sleep," Eragon murmured, gently lying down on the ground. Arya came down with him before slowly pulling away from him and staring dazedly at the fire.

Eragon was tempted to pull her back and sleep with her in his arms, but he wasn't sure if they were at the point in their relationship where he actually had permission to do that. Arya was tired, he decided, so he wouldn't take the risk, although he did know that there was no reason for her to be angry with him for doing that. After all, she was his to hold, now.

_Saphira, where are you?_ Eragon asked.

_A few miles away, Eragon,_ she replied. _We'll be back in a bit._

_Alright._

Eragon quietly sighed, glancing at Arya one last time before closing his eyes and letting sleep overtake him.

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Four days later, they found themselves flying swiftly over the Du Weldenvarden. They were only a few miles away from Ellesméra, now. Eridor was following quickly behind them. Arya had ridden him a few times during their trip, but she had slowed him down greatly, so for most of the trip, she road Saphira.

Eragon didn't mind at all.

In fact, he found himself a bit annoyed at the fact that he and Arya's constant time together would not last much longer. Yes, they would see each other all the time in Ellesméra, but they would be surrounded by the elves and it would most likely take awhile for them to get used to his and Arya's relationship.

Another thought suddenly struck his mind.

_Arya,_ he said to her from his mind; it was too hard to speak aloud over the wind.

_Yes?_ She shuffled slightly in his arms.

_Does your mother know about Eridor?_

_No, _she said, _there will be much to tell her when we arrive. _

_Aye, _Eragon agreed, _but do you think it's too much?_

_I think that it would be best to save a few things for later, _Saphira joined in. _With all the news of Murtagh and the fact that Eragon is the son of Morzan, added to the news of Eridor and your new relationship, I think it might be a bit much._

_Well, _Eragon said, _maybe we should just tell her the more important things and save us fro later._

_No, _Arya replied, lacing her fingers through his, _that is something we can't put off. She'll need time to get used to it and we don't want to be sneaking around._

_Well it seems a bit late to decide now, anyway, _Saphira said.

Eragon looked down. Saphira was slowly descending into the small opening situated against a tall and very large tree, that was actually a home. He could make out small paths and the other tree houses lined along the paths. A few elves gently strode down the paths, looking up with excitement when they saw Saphira and then staring widely when they saw Eridor.

Eragon smiled; they were back.

**A/N:** At this point, the story's gonna start to move along a bit more. The point of views are gonna be changing throughout the rest of the story. There'll be some Arya, some Eragon, probably some Nasuada and maybe even Murtagh. Secondly, I'm really gonna try to make the main focus of the story realistic as possible, which means that I'm gonna try to reduce the Eragon/Arya fluff. Don't get me wrong, I think they're gonna get together in the third book (and there's still gonna be plenty of interaction between them) but I just wanna make this story more real. I'm gonna try to delve into a bunch of my own theories on the book and all the questions that C.P. needs to answer (i.e. weapon under the Menoa Tree, Vault of Souls). So this is now officially a book 3 fic, not just an Eragon/Arya fic.

Thanks for all those who reviewed! I _really _appreciate your feedback. It gets me motivated to keep going. Review if you can and thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

As soon as they landed, a small crowd of surprised and gleeful elves surrounded them. They looked upon Eridor with uncontained joy as they cried out their greetings to the dragons and their riders. Almost every elf was smiling and those who weren't were shaking their heads in complete disbelief.

"Hail Princess Arya!" one elf shouted.

"Nay, she's _Shur'tugal _Arya, now!" another added.

"Look at that beautiful skulblaka; it's almost too amazing to believe," one elf muttered as they made their way through the crowds.

_They are in a state of shock, that's for sure,_ Saphira said.

They made polite and various greetings as they slowly walked towards Tialdari Hall, where the Queen was most likely waiting; the news of their arrival had probably already reached her.

Eragon knew that it was important that they inform Islanzadi of all the recent happenings, but he was also keen on speaking with Oromis. He still had many questions that he needed answered and he didn't know how much time they would have.

They made their way through the large oak doors into Tialdari Hall. Like he expected, Islanzadi was waiting for them in the large main court. She sat quietly on her throne, her intense eyes looking them over. Her face remained expressionless as Arya led Eridor over to her, but Eragon could swear he saw a hint of excitement in her eyes. They recited the proper elven greetings before sitting down in the two small chairs Islanzadi provided for them. Saphira and Eridor sat next to them both and Eridor stared at Islanzadi with a curious expression. There was no one else in the room.

"You return," Islanzadi's voice echoed throughout the hall.

"Yes," Arya simply replied.

They sat there in silence for a few moments. Eragon could tell Islanzadi was still trying to soak in the sight before her. She suddenly stood, opening her arms.

"Come here, my daughter, and greet your mother properly," she said, now grinning. Arya smiled weakly and walked into her mother's arm, embracing her.

"I see you bring a new friend," Islanzadi said, as Arya again took her seat.

Arya smiled. "I think you can see that we have much to tell you."

"I most definitely can," Islanzadi said, seriously. "But first, introduce me to this magnificent creature standing before me." She nodded over at Eridor.

_I am Eridor, skulblaka of Arya, _Eridor said to the queen.

The queen beamed at him. "Welcome, Eridor, to my home."

_Thank you, my lady. It is a pleasure to meet the one who created the person I so heavily depend on._

"You are a wise, Eridor, for one so young," Islanzadi replied, smiling at the dragon. She turned to Saphira. "It is so wonderful to see you again, Saphira," she said warmly.

_And it is wonderful to see you again, Queen Islanzadi. _

Islanzadi nodded in gratitude then turned to Eragon and Arya.

"Now, tell me all I need to know."

Arya nudged Eragon, encouraging him to begin the long tale.

And so Eragon spoke. He told her of their return to Aberon and being immediately sent to the Burning Plains, where the major battle took place. He told her of Roran and his village's triumphant entrance, as well as The Twins' reappearance and deaths. He then told her about Murtagh and their fiery battle, leaving out the fact that Morzan was Eragon's father and Murtagh his brother. He and Saphira had thought it best to save that information for last.

He then went on to tell her about their mission to rescue Katrina. He told her of Murtagh's appearance in the woods and the egg he brought with him. He let Arya take over when he got to Eridor's hatching. She told her mother about the assassin and Eragon's near death experience. She finished up by explaining Galbatorix's motives for her death and Nasuada's reasons on why she thought they should stay here.

"This certainly is a lot to take in," Islanzadi muttered, staring blankly ahead of her.

"Well," Eragon said, "there is a bit more."

Islanzadi stared at him curiously, waiting for him to go on.

_Eragon,_ Arya said, _let me tell my mother about us later. I'm not sure how she'll take it and I think it would be best if I told her alone._

Eragon didn't respond and instead just nodded, fully agreeing with her. But now he had to tell her about his heritage.

"It is rather complicated," Eragon began, "but Murtagh brought some interesting news with him to our little battle."

Islanzadi gazed intently at him, her eyes never wavering.

"You have to understand, my lady, that I am not proud of this at all. I wish it weren't true, but, unfortunately. I cannot control fate."

"What are you on about, Eragon?" Islanzadi could tell he was stalling, even if he didn't mean to.

"Murtagh," Eragon said, "is my brother. Not just my half-brother, but my full-blooded brother. His mother and father are mine and mine are his." He paused, waiting for some sort of reaction, but instead received nothing but a completely blank face.

"Of course," Eragon said, breaking the silence, "this does mean that my father is... Morzan." He had a very hard time saying the last part.

Still, the queen said nothing. Eragon looked over at Arya, who was staring anxiously over at her mother. She noticed his gaze and turned to him, shrugging.

They sat in a very uncomfortable silence for a few more minutes until Islanzadi let out a weary sigh.

"Very well," she simply said, standing up, "a son cannot choose his father."

Eragon didn't know what to say. He wanted to say he was sorry; sorry that he had to bring her this news; sorry for being _his_ son, but he knew that there was no reason to apologize. She was, after all, correct; a son _does not_ choose his father.

But why was Islanzadi so taken back by the news? He had expected her to be surprised, but right now she seemed to be controlling her anger more than her disbelief.

"Eragon, Saphira, you may go. Your tree has already been prepared." Eragon could tell that she was having a hard time controlling her voice. She wouldn't even look Eragon in the eye.

"What--," Eragon stuttered, before Saphira gently nudged him.

_Let her get used to the news, Eragon. She has a lot to think about._

Eragon stood up, confused and slightly hurt. Islanzadi did not seem pleased with him at all. He glanced quickly back at Arya on his way out, but she was busy staring confusedly at her mother.

_What was that all about?_ Eragon said, as they made their way to their tree house.

_Morzan must have done something horrible to her or someone she knew in the past._

_Or maybe she just thinks of Morzan in the way she thinks of Galbatorix; hey are both equally horrible men. She was alive during Morzan's time, after all. He even lived in Ellesméra when he was training, if I am correct._

_You have a point, _Saphira replied.

They passed a small brush of lilies as they walked. Eragon remembered admiring the lilies when they were last in Ellesméra many times before, particularly when he was having a bad day; but nothing could cheer him up now.

He did not want Islanzadi to be angry with him, but most of all, he wanted to know _why_ she was feeling this way. It was not his fault that he shared Morzan's blood and Islanzadi had even admitted this. In the back of his mind, he knew that she must be having a hard time adjusting to the fact that he was the son of one of The Forsworn, but he could still not hide his confusion and utter annoyance of the whole situation.

They soon reached their tree and, for a moment, the thoughts of the long and confusing day disappeared from Eragon's mind. He glided up the steep stairs that wrapped around the tree and made his way through the screen door. He glanced quickly around the small entrance hall, noticing that it had been swept and cleaned, but was otherwise the same as how he left it.

He then quickly made his way into his room, where Saphira was already laying contentedly on her oversized mat. He smiled and looked around cheerfully, happy to be back in the place he considered a second home. He practically fell onto his huge bed, embracing the soft mattress. It had been awhile since he slept on something so soft and comfortable.

_Saphira, _Eragon said, resting his eyes.

_Yes, Eragon?_

_Let's go see Oromis and Glaedr. They will be expecting us._

_Eragon, _Saphira replied, _it is late and they are both probably tired. Wait until morning; I am sure that is when they would want us to come. _

Eragon nodded silently in defeat. He wanted to see if Oromis knew the reason behind Islanzadi's hatred of Morzan, but he knew that Saphira was right, they would be tired and, as much as he hated to admit it, so was he.

_Very well, then I suppose my questions will have to wait._

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Arya stared at her mother in complete confusion. Islanzadi sat wearily back into her seat and put her face in her hands.

_Why was she so upset that Eragon was Morzan's son_? Arya asked Eridor. _Surely she could look past it. There has to be something she's not telling me._

_Yes, _Eridor replied, _you should ask her about it and see what she tells you. _He looked lazily around the room. _I'll leave you two alone. This is between you and your mother._

_Eridor, whatever concerns me concerns you, now. You can stay._

_That may be, _Eridor replied firmly, _but I think your mother would be more comfortable speaking about her issue without me in the room. I will be able to hear your conversation elsewhere._

With that, Eridor left the hall.

Islanzadi glanced at the dragon as he left, before looking at Arya.

"I have much to think about, Arya," she said, "you may leave."

Arya glared defiantly at her mother. "Not until you tell me what is bothering you."

Islanzadi stared firmly down at her. "I do wish to speak about it, now. You have brought me much to think about and now I need to let it all sink in."

Her voice was quivering with contained anger and Arya knew that her mother was very serious. She also knew that she got her stubbornness from her mother, so there probably wasn't a way to get her to change her mind, at least right now.

"Mother," Arya said softly, "I understand that you need time to get used to all of this news, but why are you so angry with Eragon? You were the one that said a son does not choose his father. You cannot blame him for this."

Islanzadi sighed. "I know this, Arya, but Morzan is one of those people who I hate with every fiber of my being. He goes right down there with Galbatorix."

"Why, though? You have not spoken of him much before?"

"That," Islanzadi replied, "is a story for another time. You will know the reason someday, I assure you."

"Does it relate to our family?" Arya asked stubbornly.

Islanzadi took a deep breath, clearly frustrated. "It is a very hard subject to talk about, Arya, and after today's events I am not yet ready to speak of it."

"Fine," Arya replied curtly, quickly standing up. "But I'll be expecting an answer at some point during my stay here."

"And I promise that you will get one."

Arya nodded, annoyed that she couldn't get the answer out of her mother, and headed out of the hall.

"Arya," Islanzadi called from behind her.

She turned quickly, hoping for more.

"I am glad you are back."

She nodded again, this time in gratitude. "It is good to be home," she replied. She then turned on her heel and left the court, heading towards her room.

_Eridor, _Arya called out.

_Yes? _He replied.

_Where are you?_

_I am with Saphira and Eragon. _

_Will it be alright if you stay there for the night? My room isn't big enough for you. I'll have to move into one of the trees in order to accommodate you._

_I suppose, _he answered briskly._ Sleep well, Arya._

She smiled. _You too._

Arya entered her room quietly. It was dark now and the moonlight shining through her window was her only source of light. She lit a small candle and set it on her desk next to the fairth of Faolin. She glanced at his picture quickly and then turned away; she didn't want to think about him now. Instead she focused her thoughts on her mother.

What had Morzan done to have her this resentful towards him and anyone related to him, Eragon included? Why didn't Arya know about it? She and her mother weren't exactly the closest of pairs, but they got along well enough, especially when Arya was younger. She was sure that her mother wouldn't keep anything serious from her.

Arya sighed in defeat and fell gently down onto her bed. She would just have to wait a bit longer to figure it out. In the meantime, it probably wouldn't be the best idea to tell Islanzadi about her and Eragon's new relationship. Hopefully Islanzadi would soon simmer down and get used to the idea of Eragon being Morzan's son and treat Eragon as she normally would. _Then _she would tell her.

Another thought struck her. What would the other elves think of Eragon's lineage? Arya shook her head in frustration; they didn't even need to know. Islanzadi had the right to know because she was Queen, but it was none of the others' business. Most of them would probably be furious with him, even though they had no right to be, and there was certainly no point in getting an elf angry.

Other thoughts and worries erupted into Arya's mind as she slowly drifted off, but she pushed them away, deciding that they would all just have to wait until tomorrow.

A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review ;)


	7. Chapter 7

Eragon woke up early the next morning, feeling refreshed and full of energy. He wanted to go see Oromis and Glaedr straight away, but wasn't sure if Oromis expected him to train as he normally would. He wondered if things would be like normal now that they had returned. How much more was there to teach him and Saphira? What could he teach Arya and Eridor? Would they train together?

All of these questions flowed through Eragon's mind as he took a long and soothing bath and he was suddenly overwhelmed with it all.

_Let's go straight to Oromis,_ he said later on to Saphira, who was still curled up comfortably on the ground. Eridor slept a few feet away from her in the corner of the room.

Saphira yawned and blinked rapidly before just staring at him. _Little one, why are you up so early? The sun hasn't even risen._

Eragon grinned and walked over to the small window situated over his bed. It was covered by a large curtain, which Eragon quickly pulled away. Sunlight streamed into the room, flowing like the falling water in a thunderous waterfall. Saphira shut her eyes immediately, the light much too strong for her heavy eyes.

_Ok, ok, _Saphira said, her upper lip curling up slightly, _I can see that it is not so early. I suppose we can go. _

She slowly stood up, stretching each of her legs carefully as she went. She yawned again, this time rather loudly, and then glanced over at Eridor.

_What will we do about him? _she asked Eragon.

_He knows the way out, _Eragon said, pulling a clean white shirt over his head. _He can leave when he's ready._ _He and Arya will probably come to see Oromis sometime later today._

_Fine, _she quickly replied. _I'll meet you outside then. _She leaped through the large opening in the tree and flew outside into the clear sky.

Eragon looked himself over in the small mirror the elves had given him. He looked clean, that was for sure. His dark brown hair sat neatly upon his head, slightly ruffled, but giving him a handsome look. Earlier he had trimmed his hair slightly to make it look more proper and it now sat a few inches above his shoulders. Running a hand across his smooth cheek, he flicked his pointed elven ears with his other and took one last look. He nodded at himself in approval; Oromis would be definitely be pleased with him.

He quickly grabbed his sword and strapped it onto the Belt of Beloth the Wise that Oromis had given him and then made his way out of the house.

He was on his way down the stairs, lost in all his earlier thoughts, when he bumped into Arya.

"I see you're in a hurry," she said, smiling.

Eragon was immediately pulled from his thoughts and back into the present.

He grinned down at Arya and said, "Saphira and I are on our way to see Oromis."

She nodded. "Yes, I thought you might be. I saw Saphira flying overhead as I made my way here. Eridor is still up there sleeping, though, so I thought I'd come and get him, if that's alright with you."

"Of course," he said, quickly, deciding his earlier plans could wait a few moments. "I'll go up with you."

She didn't object and so they both made their way up the stairs.

"I'll have to move into one of the trees out here, I suppose," she said as they reached the door. "I was going to ask my mother about that yesterday, but she wasn't really in the mood to talk."

"Do you know why she was so angry with me for being Morzan's son?" Eragon said, closing the door behind him. She turned around and leaned lightly against the doorway and Eragon could clearly see frustration in her eyes.

"No," she replied, "I don't. She didn't tell me anything yesterday, either."

Eragon sighed and walked over to her, gently placing a hand on her waist. "I don't want her to be angry with me," he said.

She smiled lightly and placed her hand over his. "I know, Eragon, but I don't think this will last forever. She told me she would tell me soon and hopefully by then she will have gotten over her anger."

"I hope so," he replied before asking: "You didn't tell her about us, did you? Because she's obviously not pleased with me and I don't think it would be a—,"

She laughed. "Relax, Eragon, I did not tell her about our relationship. I think I'll wait until she's feeling a little better about you."

"Good," he said, placing a small and gentle kiss on her lips. She sighed and pulled closer to him.

"Don't you have some place you need to be?" she said as they broke the kiss. She smiled lightly at him.

"Oh, yes," he replied, "I told Saphira I'd meet her ages ago."

She nodded and playfully pushed him away from her. "You should get going, then. I'll see you later at Oromis' cottage. He sent me a letter earlier telling me come to his house around mid-afternoon. I think he's expecting to be with you for quite awhile."

"Yes, well I do have much to tell him," he replied, grinning. He kissed her one more time before swiftly heading out the door.

He met Saphira in the small glaze that they had landed in earlier. They flew rapidly through the sky, both anticipating the meeting to come.

Eragon quickly spotted Oromis' small home nestled on the Crags of Tel'Naeir. He could see Glaedr lounging lazily under the bright sun and Oromis sitting on a small stump reading a scroll. They both looked up expectantly as the two descended towards them.

Saphira gently landed and Eragon immediately jumped off her, eager to greet his masters. Oromis walked slowly towards them, limping slightly, with Glaedr following right behind him. As they reached each other, Eragon could tell Oromis was weak. Dark circles sat under his eyes and his normally smooth and curved cheek bones were sunken in.

He smiled wearily at him. "I am glad to see that you have returned safely."

"Thank you, Ebrithil," Eragon replied, grinning as cheerfully as he could. "I'm glad to be back."

He patted Eragon on the shoulder. "It is good to hear that Eragon. We still have much to teach you and Saphira."

_Yes, and I hear we have two new pupils now, _Glaedr joined in.

"You do," Eragon replied, beaming.

"Let us have a seat then," Oromis said. "We can sit outside today since it is so nice. While you two have been gone, Glaedr and I have taken to sitting out and basking in the sun." He chuckled lightly leading them over to the two stumps. Eragon grinned and took a seat. Saphira sat right next to him.

Oromis looked him over for a second before saying, "Eragon, where is Zar'roc?"

Eragon looked at him in surprise; he had not expected Oromis to pick up on that so quickly.

He sighed. "I'm afraid it was stolen, Ebrithil."

"Stolen? By whom?"

Eragon shook his head, not looking forward to telling Oromis all of his news. "Perhaps I should just start at the beginning."

Oromis nodded curiously and Eragon quickly began his tale, once again keeping the news of his lineage until the end.

Both Oromis and Glaedr stared at him in shock when he told them.

They remained silent for a moment before Oromis said, "This is…unexpected."

Eragon nodded slowly, looking for more of a reaction.

"I don't really understand…" Oromis trailed off. "What do you think of this, Eragon?"

Eragon frowned and said, "I don't really like thinking about it. The way I see it, Morzan is no more my father than any other man. I was raised by my uncle and in my eyes he is my father."

Oromis nodded, looking pleased. "Well said," he replied. "Morzan is not someone who I enjoy talking about, but you should know that I see you no differently now than I did before."

_Aye, _Glaedr agreed.

"Thank you, that means a lot to me," Eragon said, smiling in gratitude.

"It is good news, though," Oromis said, "to hear that Murtagh is the one to have handed over the green egg. I only hope he finds a way to completely break away from Galbatorix."

Eragon nodded in agreement. Oromis stared thoughtfully at the sky before muttering incoherently to himself.

"What was that, Ebrithil?" Eragon asked.

"What?" Oromis turned quickly towards him. "Oh, never mind, I'm just thinking out loud. Now, I think that we should talk about your training schedule."

Eragon stared at him for a brief second, slightly surprised that Oromis did not want to speak of Eragon's news any longer.

"Yes, of course," he said.

"We will do the same as before. You know what time to get up. Bathe, shave, clean up—you do look good today, by the way—sword fighting with Vanir, and then come straight to me. I suppose having Arya here might change things up a bit. She will have the same schedule as you and I will most likely have to teach you together. I'm not sure where she's at in terms of the knowledge of Shur'tugal, but I'm sure she's highly skilled."

He looked over at Eragon with sympathy. "Are you going to be alright being around Arya all day?"

Beside him, Saphira snorted. Eragon stared at him for a second, wondering what he was talking about, but then remembered all the rather embarrassing meetings that had occurred between him and Arya when he was last in Ellesméra. He had not told Oromis about their relationship and didn't think he should until he had Arya's approval.

"Thank you for your concern, Ebrithil," Eragon replied, "but Arya and I have patched things up."

"That is good news, Eragon." He smiled and looked over to Glaedr, speaking silently to him.

A few moments later, Oromis said, ""Glaedr and Saphira are going to go out to do some training and review exercises. You can come on in with me. We'll do some reviewing of our own." He stood up slowly and made his way into the house. Eragon glanced over at Saphira, who quickly leaped into the air behind Glaedr.

_Good luck, Saphira, _he said, watching her leave.

_You too, little one, _she replied.

8888888888888888

Hours later, Eragon sat lazily in his chair glancing over a long scroll. He was reading about the history of the Broddring Kingdom, which he normally would find interesting, although he had read about it before, but today he was having a hard time concentrating.

Arya had arrived an hour ago and was currently outside with Oromis. Eragon could see Eridor looking eagerly around for Glaedr, who was still out with Saphira, and Arya was sitting on the same stump he had sat on earlier, talking in a low tone. He could tell they were in a serious conversation and he could only wonder what they were talking about.

At lunch, he had asked Oromis about Islanzadi's thoughts on Morzan. However, his teacher had not ended up being very helpful. Oromis had told him that there was some sort of past between them, but he didn't say anything more.

Eragon thought that Oromis and Arya might be speaking about Islanzadi, but there really wasn't a way for him to figure out. He supposed he would just have to ask Arya later.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice Oromis leave Arya and head back inside.

"Eragon," he said, poking his head through the door, "I think you've done enough reading for today; come join us outside." His head disappeared and Eragon quickly went to join them.

"Saphira and Glaedr should be arriving any moment," Oromis said as Eragon took a seat next to Arya. He smiled quickly at her before turning to Oromis.

"Are we done?" he asked.

Oromis nodded. "Yes, but remember, Eragon, to go over what you and Saphira have both learned today. I know that we reviewed most of the day, but it is still important to know what the other has been learning. Arya, Eridor, the same goes for you."

Just then, Saphira and Glaedr appeared above them. Saphira swooped in complicated dives and turns, showing off the moves that Glaedr had taught her. Eridor shuffled excitedly, happy to see another dragon.

Saphira and Glaedr both landed gracefully a few seconds later and Glaedr walked over to greet the young emerald dragon. They both examined each other slowly. A few seconds later, Glaedr nodded at him in approval.

Eragon watched in amusement as they silently exchanged greetings; he had never seen Eridor so excited. He was always so polite and quiet around him, but today he was nearly leaping with uncontained joy. Eragon knew he must be excited to meet not only another dragon, but a male who he could relate to. Eridor enjoyed Saphira's company, but there was nothing like male bonding.

"Well," Oromis said, after a few minutes, "now that you two seem to be acquainted, I think that we should say our goodbyes. It is late and I need my rest for tomorrow's lessons and I think all of you do as well."

Eragon turned to his master. "Of course, Ebrithil, we will see you tomorrow then."

Oromis nodded. "Yes, bright and early," he said, turning to Arya and Eridor, who was still staring excitedly up at the older dragon. "I am extremely pleased to have you both as my pupils. I am not sure I will have much to teach you, but then again one can never learn too much."

Arya smiled and said, "Thank you Orom-- Ebrithil, I am excited to see what I have to learn."

Oromis smiled in return. "Alright then, off you go." With that he limped slowly towards his cottage.

Eragon stared worriedly at his old teacher. He knew that Oromis must be very tired, but he wondered why he seemed to tire so much easier now than he did before. When he here a few months before, Oromis still had much energy and zeal, but now he was struggling to keep up with them.

"Is he alright?" Arya asked as she boarded Eridor.

Eragon shrugged. "I honestly don't know."

As they flew back towards the city, Eragon worried silently about Oromis. Oromis' sickness was slowly taking him over, that was obvious, but he wanted to know why it now seemed to be draining him much faster than before. Or perhaps there was another reason why Oromis was so keen to see them go. Unfortunately, all Eragon could do was wonder.

**A/N:** I know this chapter was kind of boring, but the next one is where things start to get a bit more interesting…

I'd like to thank all of the people who've reviewed so far. I _really _appreciate your feedback! And to anyone taking time to read my story, you guys are great! Thanks for reading!

Review if you can. It takes like a second and it makes me much more excited and motivated to write. Anything is appreciated, even if it's just something like "Great Chapter." Really, I'm not picky :)


	8. Chapter 8

A chill swept over the long and narrow hall, illuminated only by the dull torches that hung loosely on the stone walls. Every now and then a few servants would make their way past him, heads hung low and nodding timidly as they strolled by. But he kept his eyes firmly straight ahead, not at all looking forward to the meeting that would soon come.

Murtagh was not in a good mood and the fact that the king wanted to see him was not making him any happier. Their meetings only resulted in one of two things: a tortuous beating for something that he's supposedly done wrong, or some sort of mission that Galbatorix wanted him to attend to. Murtagh had not been out of the castle for weeks now and he knew it was not likely that he would be let out soon, so the only possible explanation for his summons was that he had once again done something to anger the king.

Life for Murtagh had not been particularly good during the past few weeks. When Galbatorix had learned that the green egg had been stolen from right under his nose, he had been positively furious. Murtagh, who had been able to temporarily free himself from Galbatorix, quickly covered up his betrayal to the king by setting up the servant who had been guarding the egg at the time. Murtagh had to make up the fact that the servant was a spy from The Varden.Hethen had to place his own memory into the soldier's mind before Galbatorix actually _believed _that the soldier had committed the crime. His plan worked and the soldier was immediately put to death.

Murtagh did feel guilty for the death of the innocent soldier, but he knew that there really was no other way to go. He wasn't sure what Galbatorix would've done if he had figured out that it was Murtagh who had really taken the egg, and he most definitely did not want to know.

Although Murtagh had been proven innocent, Galbatorix was still rather angry with him. The king had told Murtagh that he should have been there to protect the egg and that he should have sensed that something was wrong. Murtagh had mentally retorted that the _king _should have sensed that something was wrong with the egg.

So, Murtagh had been locked up in his room for weeks now, locked away from all life, including the mind of his dragon.

As if on cue, a deep and comforting voice popped into his mind. _Murtagh._

Murtagh sighed in relief as he heard his dragon's voice for the first time in weeks. _Thorn, how are you?_

_I am well enough. But how are you?_

Murtagh chuckled darkly. _Not looking forward to what's to come. I guess you can say I'm anxious._

Thorn growled. _If that _king_ does anything to hurt you again I'll--,"_

_Thorn, _Murtagh cut off, _I'm afraid you can't do anything for me at the time. I'll be alright. Now tell me, where are you right now?_

_I am on the North Tower, chained to that ridiculous pole Galbatorix had built! I haven't flown for weeks, Murtagh! _

Murtagh clenched his jaw, anger and hatred surging towards the king. But he quickly hid his emotions, fearing that Galbatorix would come probing his mind at any moment.

_We'll get you out of there soon, Thorn, _he said. He paused then darkly said:_ Perhaps today Galbatorix will have finally taken _pity _on me. _

Murtagh could feel Thorn's anger rage. _I will be watch over you during your visit, Murtagh, and if I have to tare these chains away and come to protect you, I will. No one will be able to stop me._

Murtagh grinned. _You're right about that, Thorn; no one can stop you._

He rounded a corner and stopped in front of a large oak door that led into Galbatorix's court. He took a deep breath and knocked.

The door slowly opened revealing two strong-looking soldiers. They glanced at him for a second before motioning for him to come in.

"My King, the Rider has arrived," one of the soldiers said, taking him by the arm and practically pulling him towards the king.

"Good," Galbatorix's said. "Now leave us." His voice was quiet, yet boomed with authority.

"Sit," he ordered. There was no compassion in his voice.

Murtagh nodded and took a seat in a small chair that lay below Galbatorix's throne, which sat a few feet above him on a large platform.

Galbatorix sat quietly, looking Murtagh over. The king was a large man with a thick beard and broad shoulders. His wrinkled face held scars from long ago and his long, gray hair fell messily upon his shoulders. His nose was long and crooked and his mouth thin and his lips pressed tightly together. The king sat lazily upon his thrown, a chubby hand running through his matted beard. His dark blue eyes pierced Murtagh like a dagger.

Murtagh felt a small pressure in the back of his mind and he knew that Galbatorix was looking through his mind. It was a feeling that Murtagh so desperately hated. The idea of someone looking through the one thing man can keep hidden was so disgraceful and deplorable that he found himself reeling in his anger. His jaw was clenched firmly down and he tried frantically to pull away, but Galbatorix was too strong.

A sharp and familiar pain suddenly sprang throughout his body. It felt like a thousand daggers had just been thrust into his body. He groaned in agony and fell from his chair.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Galbatorix said, releasing him from the pain. Murtagh sighed and pulled himself back into his chair, wincing all the while.

"I'm sorry, Master," he replied. "It's always been a habit."

Galbatorix stared at him for a second, his face completely expressionless. He then shook his head in frustration.

"I need you to do something for me, Murtagh," he simply stated.

Murtagh glanced at him curiously. "What do you need me to do?"

Galbatorix sighed in annoyance, obviously still not happy with Murtagh. "I don't know if I can completely trust you anymore, but I don't care about that right now. All I know is that The Varden suddenly has the advantage and I will not have that last."

"Then what do you propose we do," Murtagh replied. A small pain shot through his chest.

"I want the elf and her dragon dead!" he shouted madly.

Murtagh flinched at this unexpected outburst and wearily nodded, a small amount of pain still circulating throughout his body. "Of course, Master."

"I want you to take a small group of my best assassins down to Surda," he said, "and kill them both. That is your goal; not to destroy all of The Varden and Aberon. We haven't got time for that. Just kill the elf. There's no way that she will come over to our side, so there's no point in keeping her alive."

Murtagh didn't like this idea at all, but he agreed to it anyway, knowing that he needed to please the king.

"What about Eragon?" he asked.

"Your brother," Galbatorix sneered, "will remain untouched for the time being. That is unless you find a way to kidnap him. But I highly doubt that will happen." The king glared suspiciously at him.

"Do _not_ fail me, Murtagh," he continued. "These past few weeks have not been pleasant for you. If you even think of telling Eragon or anyone else of our plans, then you will be spending the rest of your days in my own torture chamber. I don't think you want that, do you, boy?"

Murtagh shook his head quickly. "No, Master. I will not fail you."

"Good," Galbatorix said, calming down slightly. "You and the assassins will leave early tomorrow morning. Altogether, their will be five of you, which is more than enough. When you reach Surda, have the assassins blend in with the townspeople. I don't want a huge fuss made while you're there, so try to avoid killing anyone in public. Nevertheless, kill anyone who gets in your way.

"The assassins' jobs are to kill Nasuada; we can't keep her alive for much longer and her death will certainly break down The Varden. I want _you _to kill the elf. I think it will be a good way to gain back your trust, don't you?"

Murtagh's throat tightened when Galbatorix mentioned Nasuada. He could not let her be killed. Not only would that greatly damage The Varden, it would break his heart.

He had been fond of Nasuada when he first met her and that fondness had slowly grown into attraction. She had visited him often during his imprisonment in Tronjheim and he had thoroughly enjoyed every minute he spent with her. He told her a bit about his past and she told him a bit about hers. They had slowly come to an understanding about one another and Murtagh was sure that his attraction to her was not one-sided.

He would not let those assassins kill her, that was certain, but he couldn't let Galbatorix know of his feelings. He pushed those thoughts deep back into his mind and nodded.

"If this doesn't work, Murtagh," Galbatorix said, his eyes flashing with anger, "if that elf somehow _escapes_, I will be very, very angry with you."

Murtagh nodded, saying the words he so desperately did not want to say: "I will not let her escape."

Murtagh felt his mind being invaded once again and he made sure his deepest thoughts stayed away from Galbatorix.

"You may go," Galbatorix said, apparently convinced. Murtagh stood and bowed, then quickly left the room, never looking back.

A million thoughts ran through his head at one time, but he knew one thing for sure: he could not let Arya die. Killing her would be like destroying The Varden and by destroying The Varden he would be destroying all of Alagaësia. She was one of their last hopes and he knew it.

But was she still in Surda? Surely she must have been suspicious of the attack that had mistakenly left Eragon mortally wounded. Perhaps she and her dragon fled elsewhere. He certainly hoped that was the case.

Still, he needed to let The Varden know of Galbatorix's plans if he was going to save both Arya _and_ Nasuada. But who could he tell? It was too risky to try to contact Eragon and he knew that Arya would never let him into her mind. There was one other person; the person whose life so suddenly depended on him.

He needed to contact Nasuada and he needed to do it soon. He would have to find a time where he could temporarily escape Galbatorix. But when that time would be, he didn't know. All he knew was that he couldn't let this plan work and he willing to risk everything in order to keep Nasuada alive.

**A/N: **This is just a short little chapter to get the plot moving. Hope you liked it!

Thanks for reading (and remember to review!).


	9. Chapter 9

"My lady, if I may…"

Voices bickered back and forth in constant disagreement. They wanted Nasuada's input, but she wasn't up to giving any more advice. Her mind was elsewhere and today's nonsense had gone on long enough.

"I think," Nasuada said, interrupting one of Orrin's advisors, "that I have had enough for today. I really don't think my presence here is necessary--,"

"Of course it is!" Orrin cut her off.

She ignored him. "—as I am not officially a member of this country or on the board of elders. So I will make my way to my room. I am extremely tired and have had a long and exhausting day, as I'm sure you all have."

She stood up and courteously bowed to Orrin. "Thank you for including me in your country's affairs. It was most…pleasant."

He beamed and stood up with her. "Thank _you_, Lady Nasuada, for joining us. We will be having another meeting in the coming days. Will you join us?"

She smiled graciously, although on the inside she felt like fainting. "I'm quite busy the next few days, so we'll have to see. Good night." With that she turned on her heel and made her way swiftly to her room.

She was honored that Orrin would even think of including her in his country's affairs, but at the same time, she really had no interest in what he and his elders talked about. Most of the time, they spent they days speaking of the quality agriculture in their land. She shook her head in annoyance; there were much more important things to talk about.

Her thoughts drifted to Eragon and the others. She wondered where they were. She hoped they had reached Ellesméra by now. There were recent rumblings of Galbatorix's unhappiness with the whole situation. He was supposedly planning an attack on The Varden and would do anything he could to have Arya and Eridor killed.

Nasuada had to make sure that they were completely prepared for anything. She had spoken recently to Orrin about getting ready for battle, but he didn't seem to think that they had anything to worry about. Nasuada disagreed and ordered her people to be on guard. It was the only thing that they could do right now and she only hoped that they could prevent any sort of attack Galbatorix had in store for them.

"Hello there, Nasuada," a voice said from behind.

Nasuada turned around and faced someone she did not expect to see.

"Orik," she said in surprise, "I didn't expect to see you here so soon."

After the battle at the Burning Plains, Orik and his people had quickly returned to Farthen Dûr. They had to bury their dead, including their king, and also had to elect a new one. She had sent for Orik and a few other dwarves a few days ago, wanting to make sure she had some back up in case of any attack, but she had not expected them to arrive so quickly.

"We wanted to get here as fast as we could," he answered solemnly.

Nasuada smiled. "Thank you, Orik. Your service is much appreciated." She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, sensing his unusual somberness. "Come, we have much to discuss."

Nasuada led him quietly to her study. She shut the door behind him and motioned for him to sit.

"How are things back home?" she asked, making herself comfortable in her chair behind her desk.

"Chaotic," he answered, stroking his long beard thoughtfully. "There's still much to be decided."

"Has a new king been chosen?"

"No," he gravely responded. "A few candidates have been chosen, but no one has been elected to replace King Hrothgar." He paused and stared uncomfortably at the ceiling, as if trying to decide if he should continue.

"I'm one of the candidates, actually," he stated a few seconds later.

Nasuada wasn't really surprised by this; in fact she was expecting it. "That is good news, Orik," she said, smiling.

He shrugged, frowning slightly, but said nothing. Nasuada stared at him for a moment, wondering why Orik seemed so bothered by his news. Then it suddenly hit her that he must not be over Hrothgar's death. She didn't blame him, either; after all Hrothgar's death had only occurred a short while ago and the two dwarves had been very close.

"You miss him, don't you?"

Orik looked up in surprise, before slowly nodding. "He was like a father to me, Nasuada. He welcomed me into his clan and because of him I was able to live a good life. I had everything I needed. Most of the dwarves want me to replace, but I don't think I'm ready to except the fact that he's not here anymore to do his job. I suppose you have a good idea of what I'm going through."

Nasuada nodded wearily, thoughts of her father streaming through her mind. "I do, Orik, and I don't think you should accept the position unless you know you want it. You should think carefully about it."

"I know," Orik said, "but right now, I don't think it's not what I want."

"What are some of the other candidates like?" Nasuada asked, trying to change the topic slightly.

"They're all good and strong men. I think any of them would be up for the challenge. They all have their faults, but I believe that any of them are capable of taking over as king."

Nasuada nodded sympathetically. "That is very good news, Orik. But know this: whatever you choose to do, whether you accept the position of king or not, The Varden is behind you all the way."

Orik smiled in gratitude. "Thank you, my lady. That is very encouraging." He glanced around the room for a second before saying: "Now, let's get down to business, shall we?"

"Yes," Nasuada cheerfully replied, "of course."

"So, I've heard rumors of an impending attack on The Varden. Are these rumors true?"

Nasuada shrugged wearily; she certainly hoped they weren't true. "I can't say, but we have to be ready for anything."

"Now that Arya is a Rider," Orik began, "she must be under incredible scrutiny of the Empire. She's wanted all over the Empire, am I correct?"

"She and her dragon are, yes," Nasuada said.

"Then they'll be looking for her. But do they know that she is no longer in Surda?"

"We don't know," Nasuada said, leaning back in her chair. "We tried to make her departure as quiet as possible. Right now, I believe Galbatorix thinks she's still here."

Orik grunted heavily. "Any other news, then?"

Nasuada shook her head. "Nothing. We can only wait."

"Have there been any sightings of large groups of Empire soldiers?"

"There have been a few sightings, but none have been heading towards us."

"Good," Orik said, standing up. "Hopefully we'll have some time to get ready for attack." He headed towards the door and continued: "Nasuada, have you ever thought of going on the offensive instead of the defensive. Why don't we attack _them _instead of waiting for them to attack _us_?"

"I have thought about that," Nasuada said, joining him at the door, "but I don't think we are quite ready for that yet. Perhaps in a few months time, but right now, we shall simply wait for them to make a move."

Orik nodded in understanding. "Alright then. I suppose our business is done for now." He headed out the door, saying a brief goodbye as he went.

Nasuada shut the door quickly and leaned against it. It had been a long day and she was looking forward to some peace and quiet.

Yet her meeting with the dwarf had troubled her. She could sense that Orik was not over Hrothgar's death and she wondered how stable he might be. She knew that he was unhappy, but she hoped that he would recover quickly and take on whatever job he chose to do.

Truthfully, Nasuada preferred that Orik did _not _become king; not because she was power hungry or didn't think he was capable, but because she liked having him at her side during times like this. Taking over as king of the dwarves would take him away from The Varden during most times. She supposed she was being a little selfish, but he was a strong and trustworthy ally.

She sat wearily back in her chair and closed her heavy eyes. She would return to her bedroom later; unfortunately she still had some papers to look over.

She placed her head on the wooden desk. _Maybe I'll just shut my eyes for a few moments, _she thought. Slowly she felt herself drifting off to sleep but she did nothing to stop herself.

A strange presence suddenly filled her mind and she tore her head up from the desk and looked around in freight. Someone was trying to enter her mind. She tried to pull away, but the person was too strong for her.

Suddenly an oddly familiar voice rang throughout her head. _Nasuada!_

Murtagh treaded nervously back and forth. He was currently alone in a small wooded area hidden from the camp he and the assassins were staying at for the night. Thorn was with the other men, watching them carefully and making reports to Murtagh.

The Dragon Rider, however, was quite distracted. During the last few days he had been waiting for the perfect time to contact Nasuada. Every time he thought he had found a small slot of time to reach her, someone had interrupted him or Galbatorix came gallivanting into his mind.

Now, though, he believed he had found the perfect time. Murtagh had pulled out a few flagons of mead earlier and the assassins had quickly guzzled down the drinks. The four assassins were now in a deep drunken slumber and wouldn't be waking up for awhile. Murtagh could also sense that Galbatorix was also currently sleeping; but for how long that would last, he didn't know, so he had to make this quick.

He looked quickly around him, making sure that no one was watching. He then reached out for Nasuada, letting the memories of her stream through his mind. He felt a small barrier when he found her mind, but he quickly made his way through it.

_Someone needs to teach her how to better protect her mind, _he noted to himself.

Suddenly he felt her frightened presence in his mind and she tried to pull away. He quickly overcame her, his mind overlapping with hers.

_Nasuada! _he yelled, trying to calm her down.

_Wh—what? Who is this? _Her frightened voice filled his mind and he felt a wave of relief strike him.

_It's me, Murtagh, _he said quietly.

_Murtagh? _He could hear the disbelief in her voice. He smiled despite this; he couldn't believe how happy he was to hear from her.

_Yes, Nasuada. I'm afraid I don't have much time, but I have some urgent news to discuss with you._

_Oh…of course. What is it, then?_

He sighed deeply. _Galbatorix has sent myself, Thorn, and four assassins down to Surda. The assassins have been traveling undercover as peasants and Thorn and I have been flying. We should be there within the next three days._

_What is he going to have you do?_ she asked anxiously.

_I was sent specifically to kill Arya and her dragon. The assassins have been sent to kill…you. _

Nasuada was quiet for a moment. He assumed she was taking some time to let the news sink in.

_Nasuada, _he said after a few moments of silence, _I want you to know that I am going to do everything in my power to keep those assassins from reaching you. I don't plan on killing Arya, either._

_How though? _she finally responded. _How do you think you can do that without letting Galbatorix know where your true loyalties lie. He will have you killed if he learns the truth!_

_I know, _Murtagh said, _but I have to take that risk. I don't know what I'm going to do next, but I have three days to figure it out. Is Arya still in Surda?_

_I can't say,_ she said reluctantly.

_You don't trust me? _he asked, rather annoyed that she did not think he would be able to keep information secret.

_I trust you, Murtagh, but I don't trust Galbatorix. He could go searching through your mind and find out what I've told you._

Murtagh nodded to himself; he knew she was right. _I understand._

A moment of silence stretched between them.

_I should go—_

_Wait!_

_What? _he quickly asked.

_How are you, Murtagh? _

He sighed wearily. _I'm…surviving._

_Does he treat you badly?_

Murtagh chuckled humorlessly. _Horribly._

_I'm sorry you have to go though this, Murtagh. I just want you to know that we are all so grateful for the sacrifice you are making for The Varden. I—_we _are all extremely honored to have you on our side._

_Thank you, Nasuada. Your words comfort me. Tell me, though, how is Eragon?_

_He is very well, Murtagh. He is…very happy._

Murtagh smiled at the encouraging news. _Good. _

He glanced around again, knowing that he needed to end the conversation soon in case of any intrusions.

_I must go, Nasuada. You never know when Galbatorix will choose to enter my mind._

He could sense disappointment coming from her and he couldn't help but smile at the fact that she didn't want to leave him. _Alright, then. Will you be able to contact me again within the next three days to let me know what going on?_

_Maybe. I don't know for sure. Don't worry, though, I will not let anyone harm you. You have been a true friend to me, Nasuada, and I will not forget that._

_You have been a true friend as well, Murtagh…You should go then. Stay safe._

_Alright, _he muttered. _Goodbye._

_Goodbye…_

Her voice quietly drifted away and he quickly pulled from her mind. He suddenly felt very alone as he made his way back to camp; that is until his dragon poked into his mind.

_That went well, then, _Thorn said.

_I think so._

Murtagh was still playing the conversation over in his head, holding tightly onto the memory of her voice. He felt too tired to speak with Thorn now and his dragon, sensing this, left him alone.

He reached the camp a few minutes later and quietly slipped by the passed out assassins. None of them had stirred since he left. He fell gently down next to Thorn. He started to think about his plans for protecting Nasuada and Arya, but soon decided to save those thoughts for tomorrow. Right now, he needed to sleep.

He slowly pushed his thoughts away before falling into a dreamless slumber.

**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait! I've been so busy lately and I've had absolutely no time to write. Hopefully this chapter will satisfy you for the time being. I don't know when the next update will be, but hopefully I won't keep you waiting _too_ long.

Thanks again for reading and remember to review!


	10. Chapter 10

Arya glanced lazily around her. She was presently sitting contently under the Menoa Tree simply observing the nature around her. The past two weeks had been very long and hard; she rarely had time to relax anymore. Her training was much more intense than

she thought it would be. Oromis made sure to not go easy on her just because she already knew much of what she was learning. He also made sure to work Eragon to the extreme, claiming that they didn't have much time to make Eragon a "pro".

She and Eridor had finally managed to move into a tree of their own. It was situated right across from Eragon and Saphira's tree and Arya found the new space to be much to big. She enjoyed having a bit more space for her things, but this tree had far _too_ much of it. All she needed was a bed, a desk, and a washroom and she was happy. So in her head, the tree was a bit too much for her. Of course, Eridor felt the complete opposite, mostly due to all the growing he had been doing lately. He was still much smaller than Saphira, but he would catch up to her in no time.

Arya had very little time to herself nowadays and her time with Eragon was mostly spent during lessons. Because of this she had to be content with any spare time they could get.

At the moment, Eragon was with Oromis going over the day's lessons. Arya had been released earlier in the day after Oromis declared that she was doing just fine in the particular area they had been training. Eragon, however, needed more practice.

Eridor was still training with Glaedr and Saphira, so Arya decided to come out here were she could relax without any interruptions. Every now and then a few elves would pass, but none would pay her much attention; most could see by the look on her face that she preferred to be alone.

A green speck suddenly appeared ahead of her and she knew that Eridor must be coming to join her. Her guess was confirmed as he gently landed beside her. A few elves in the distance looked on in admiration as Eridor lightly stretched and lay down next to her.

_Long day?_ Arya asked him as she softly patted his snout.

_Yes, _he said wearily. _Glaedr had us going through defense maneuvers. Of course Saphira was perfect at them, but I took awhile. I suppose we'll have to go through our lessons, won't we?_

Arya sighed. _Let's do that later. Right now, I just want to relax._

_Can't say I disagree with you. _

_Will Eragon be done soon? _Arya asked.

_I'm not sure, _he responded, placing his head on the ground right next to her.

They sat there in a comfortable silence. Arya felt her eyelids droop slightly and she suddenly felt very tired. She gently closed her eyes, embracing the warm and soothing air that only made her drowsier.

A deep voice pulled her from her impending slumber.

"Excuse me, Princess," someone said.

Arya looked up in surprise, reaching instinctively for her side where her sword normally rested. She found she didn't need it, however; the figure was Lecian, one of her mother's personal messengers.

"I apologize for the interruption, my lady, but your mother is quite anxious to speak with you."

Arya raised her eyebrows. "Do you know why, Lecian?"

The young elf shook his head, his long black hair bouncing on his shoulders. "I do not. She just asked me to send for you."

"Of course," Arya said, standing up. "I'll head there right now."

Lecian nodded. "She is in Tialdari Hall. I will tell her you are on your way."

Arya turned to Eridor. _I wonder what this is about._

_She has probably come to her senses, of course, and wishes to speak with you about Morzan. _

_That's what I thought, _Arya murmured, _but you never know with my mother. _She looked anxiously around her before motioning for them to leave. _Come on, then._

Eridor shook his large head and remained on the ground. _I'll stay here. Your mother did not ask for both of us. _

Arya began to protest but Eridor quickly cut her off.

_She will be more open with just you. My presence is not necessary. I will enjoy a few more moments of peace here. _

_Fine, _Arya gave in, _but make sure you at least listen in through me._

_You know I will, _Eridor heartily replied.

Arya swiftly made her way through Ellesméra and towards her home. Many thoughts raged throughout her mind as she wondered exactly this visit had in store for her.

She arrived quickly Tialdari Hall and made her way into the large court. Her mother sat quietly upon her throne looking gloomily down at her daughter as Arya sat down on a small chair a few feet away from her.

"My daughter," Islanzadi said, making no move to properly greet her, "thank you for joining me."

"Of course, Mother," Arya said quietly. Islanzadi stared at her for a few moments. It was quite apparent that the queen was trying to gather her thoughts.

"I have called you here," Islanzadi began, "to discuss with you some past…events…that I have never really discussed with you before."

"You mean to say," Arya replied bluntly, "that you have called me here to discuss the reasons behind your hatred of Morzan?"

Islanzadi chuckled humorlessly. "I suppose so."

Arya nodded slowly, waiting eagerly for her mother to begin.

"You must understand, it is still very hard for me to speak about, Arya," she said hesitantly. "Only a few people knew of what transpired and out of those few only three remain: myself, Oromis, and Glaedr.

"You know that your father was killed a few years after your birth during the Battle of Ilirea. It was a most tragic battle in which many elves were killed. You also know that Galbatorix was there personally leading the Forsworn in the battle with Morzan by his side most of the time. I tell the rest of this story to your through the words of Oromis, who witnessed the whole event:

"As the Forsworn rapidly brought down the elves, Morzan left Galbatorix's side and flew down to the ground where he saw Evandar, your father riding horseback and slaying Empire soldiers with intense skill. He had known Evandar while training as a dragon rider so he of course knew exactly who he was and what great importance he brought to the elves. Morzan immediately leaped off his dragon and pushed all other opponents out of his way. At this point there was nothing Oromis could do; arrows were being thrust at him and Glaedr left and right, preventing him from assisting your father."

Arya listened numbly as her mother spoke. She didn't even need Islanzadi to continue; it was quite obvious what was going to happen.

"Morzan's dragon brought down your father's horse," her mother continued, "leaving Evandar without any way to escape his grasp. Very few elven or dwarven soldiers remained to come to your father's defense. Even so, Empire soldiers made sure no one could interrupt Morzan.

"Evandar had been disarmed and wounded when Morzan's dragon had attacked his horse and Morzan now had him pinned to the ground. Words were exchanged between the two, but Oromis is not sure what was said. Oromis and Glaedr tried desperately to reach Evandar, but they couldn't make it in time. Morzan thrust his sword through Evandar's heart, killing him instantly."

Arya sat quietly, shock and a sharp hatred for Morzan surging throughout her body. She had never been told who had killed her father in battle; she had just thought that it was a random Empire soldier. So, this news was quite unexpected and she had absolutely no idea what to think.

"I think you can see," Islanzadi quietly said, "why I carry such a deep hatred for Morzan and, in turn, find it hard to look at Eragon the same way I used to"

Arya nodded in agreement. Morzan had killed her father, her mother's mate, and Eragon was the son of that man. No wonder Islanzadi found it so hard to speak with Eragon now. When she looked at Eragon she must not be able to see past what his father had done. Arya wondered if she, herself, would ever see Eragon the same.

She quickly shook away that thought, however; Eragon was certainly not his father and should not be blamed for Morzan's actions. That would be extremely unfair of her.

"He mercilessly slaughtered your father," Islanzadi continued, "even laughing in triumph after the deed was done. He had known your father well-- well enough to be welcomed into our home and treated with firm respect from Evandar. This whole event still does not sit well with me and I do not like to speak often about it. It has become a sort of unspoken agreement between Oromis and I not to mention it or _him_."

"Mother," Arya murmured, shaking slightly, "I don't quite know what to say."

"You do not need to say anything, Arya. I understand this must come as quite a shock."

Arya shook her head, still reeling from the news. It was so hard to believe that Morzan had killed her father, a kind and humble man who had so graciously trusted Morzan. Before she could think anymore of it, however, an unexpected anger surged through her. The shock of it all had finally settled in.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Arya demanded. "Shouldn't I know how and who killed my father?"

Islanzadi shook from the anger in Arya's voice.

"I did not think it was necessary," Islanzadi replied simply.

"You didn't think it was necessary?" Arya replied. Though she had never known him well, Evandar was still her father, and she had the right to know who had killed him. The thought hurt her immensely.

"He was my _father_!" Arya continued, tears springing in her eyes and threatening to fall. She pushed them down, determined not to appear weak in front of her mother. "You should've told me! I have that right."

"I stand by my decision, Arya," Islanzadi replied, apparently unperturbed by her daughter's harsh words. "And I think that you should take into consideration that if _had _told you earlier, you and Eragon would not be so friendly with one another. "

Arya glared at her mother. "I don't believe that's true. You see, I do not blame him for his father's actions, like you do, Mother."

Islanzadi flinched. "I do not _blame_ him, daughter! I am not as small-minded as you think I am."

Arya shook her head and turned away from her mother, allowing one small tear to make its way down her cheek.

"Do you not even see fit to apologize?" Arya murmured quietly.

Islanzadi sighed and remained quiet for a few moments. Arya knew that Islanzadi's stubborn nature would most likely prevent her from apologizing, but she hoped that her mother would push down her pride and do it anyway.

"I am sorry you think I made the wrong decision in not telling you, Arya," she wearily replied, "but I had my reasons."

Arya was about to retort but her mother continued, "I don't want to start another fight with you, so perhaps it would be best if take some time to get over the shock and think about it."

Arya couldn't help but be angry with her mother. She was disappointed in Islanzadi, that was for sure, and she was not content to just sit down and _think_ about this news. Unfortunately, her mother did care about what Arya wanted. The queen was standing up and turning to leave.

"I am returning to my quarters. You should do the same. We will speak about this later."

Arya didn't say anything; after all it would be no use if she did. Instead she rose swiftly and turned to leave, not once looking back at her mother.

Arya knew that it must have taken a great amount of strength for her mother to tell Arya about Morzan and her father, but at the same time she was incredibly angry with her mother from keeping it from her.

_Arya, _Eridor said as she made her way to her tree, _are you alright?_

_I'll be fine, _Arya said quietly. _I just need to be alone right now._

Eridor immediately pulled out of her mind, knowing that pushing her to talk would never do any good.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't notice Eragon sitting quietly on the bottom her steps. He looked up at her quickly and stood up, smiling gently at her.

A small flow of resentment suddenly took over her as she stared at him. It was an unexpected emotion and she couldn't help but be angry with herself for feeling this way about him. After all she had told herself over and over again that he wasn't his father. Her mother's new information should not have changed that.

"Hi," he said cheerfully. "I thought I would wait for you here. Saphira and Eridor just went out to do a bit of hunting and I thought you could use--" He stopped suddenly, noticing the frown she had not even realized she was wearing.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, taking a step towards her. She took a step back.

"No."

He raised an eyebrow and stared at her suspiciously. "Arya, you can tell me anything, you know that."

She shook her head and looked down at her feet. "It doesn't matter, Eragon," she said harshly, "because I do not wish to tell you anything."

He stared at her in surprise. "Okay" he said quietly. "I'm here if you need me."

Arya nodded. "Goodnight, then," she said, pushing past him and climbing up the stairs.

He was trying to act as if he didn't want her to tell him what was going on, but she knew that that was the exact opposite of how he felt. She needed to tell him about what _his_ father had done to _her_ father, after all he did have that right, but she did not want to speak about it anymore tonight. All she wanted to do was forget about today's events.

Unfortunately, though, it was all she could think about.

**A/N: **I had a bit of writer's block when I started out on this chapter, so it took me awhile to get started. Once I got rolling, though, it was pretty easy to finish. I had been planning on this chapter for awhile, too, so it kind of surprised me that it took me so long to get it right.

Thanks to all the people who have taken the time to review this story (and of course to all the people who actually _read_ it)! All of your reviews have been so encouraging and really motivate me to keep on writing.

Also, thanks again to by beta, Lenya, for checking this chapter over.


	11. Chapter 11

**Part 11**

Eragon sat quietly upon a large ledge, surrounded only by sagging tree branches. He had been off wandering the woods of the Du Weldenvarden for a few hours after another day of training. Saphira had insisted that they both return to their tree for some well-earned rest, but Eragon had other plans.

He needed to think and the beautiful forest was a great place to do that. So after Oromis had excused them, Eragon decided to walk home instead of flying with Saphira. He had intended on going right home, but he quickly noticed a large pine tree that reminded him greatly of the one Eragon and Roran used to climb as children. So he climbed it.

And that's why Eragon was sitting sullenly on the firm branch, legs dangling carelessly hundreds of feet above the ground. There was definitely _no _chance he would be interrupted here.

So now he was finally able to just think.

He and Arya hadn't spoken in three days despite the fact that they were training together everyday. He didn't want to pressure her into telling him anything she did want to, but on the inside he was starting to get very frustrated. Oromis was absolutely no help at all even though Eragon knew that his master and Arya had spoken in private yesterday.

It bothered him that Arya could speak to Oromis about whatever problem she was having and not him, her mate. That being said, though, he knew that whatever _was_ bothering her must have to do with him. That thought did nothing to decrease his frustration and utter curiosity about the situation.

A flash of light suddenly appeared directly in front of him again before quickly disappearing again. Eragon jumped slightly in surprise.

_Lightening? _he wondered to himself. _Maybe I should head down. _

Eragon found a small foot hole and carefully started to make his way down. The light appeared again, this time extremely close to him. Eragon stopped in his tracks. He knew he needed to get down, but he couldn't help but be curious. He looked straight up. The light flashed again and left him temporarily blinded by the extreme intensity of it.

Abruptly, Eragon lost his footing. Specks of brown and green and yellow filled his eyes as Eragon regained sight, making him incredibly dizzy. He flailed his arms, reaching for anything that could save him, but found himself falling endlessly towards the hard ground below him.

He felt a large wave of pain erupt through his body and then complete darkness.

A low rumble awoke Eragon from his dream-like state. He sat up quickly, wondering if the noise had just been his imagination. Complete and utter darkness surrounded him. He waited for his eyes to adjust to his surroundings, but nothing happened. Fear gripped him as he heard the rumble again.

He tried to open his mouth but found that he couldn't make a sound. In his mind, he called out to Saphira but he could not feel her presence anywhere. Sweat trickled down his brow. He could not see, he could not speak, and he could not find Saphira; the whole idea frightened him immensely. Suddenly a pale yellow light appeared in front of him. It was far away, but he could tell it was moving swiftly towards him.

Staring at it intently, Eragon felt a small pressure on the back of his neck. He turned around quickly and saw another light, this one a dark blue, coming towards him from the other direction, this one moving even faster. The two lights swiftly made their way towards each other, reminding Eragon of the shooting stars Eragon had observed a few times before. He moved to the side so he could get a view of both lights.

As they got closer, they began to form into some sort of shape. Eragon glanced quickly left and right, trying to observe both lights. But before he could make out any definite figure, the lights merged together at lightening speed.

Eragon was thrown from his position and landed painfully on a rocky surface. He opened his eyes to find himself standing in a vast, unsteady wasteland. The air around him was thick and humid. It smelled distinctly of smoke and another smell that Eragon could not quite decipher.

Another rumble jolted Eragon and he locked his feet onto the ground for balance. Suddenly Eragon saw something out of place that he had not noticed before. A large stick sat straight up from the ground a few hundred feet away from him. Eragon moved towards it, noticing that his feet were moving slower than usual.

As he got closer, he realized that the object was not a stick but in fact something else. A large gust of wind blew, coming with it the disgusting smell of decaying bodies. Eragon winced, but kept on moving. He reached it and stared at it in awe.

It was a long sapphire blue sword. The tip of the pale blue handle was adorned with a beautiful sapphire stone that sparkled brightly despite its surroundings. Eragon knelt next to the sword and gently touched the blue blade. His finger tingled against the blade's ice cold edge. He wanted to pick it up, but he did not know if he should.

_Go on._

A quiet voice suddenly burst into his mind. He looked around for sight of anyone else, but found nothing.

_What? _he asked in his mind, for he could still not open his mouth.

_Pick up the sword. It is rightfully yours._

Eragon glanced shakily at the sword. The voice was so confident, yet so gentle. Eragon couldn't help but trust it and yet at the same time it was so familiar.

He reached down and gripped the handle firmly. He gently pulled it from the ground and held it up. It was so amazingly light. He swung it this way and that, performing moves that he had never been able to do before. This sword was more enhanced than Zar'roc had been and it fit so perfectly into his hand. Eragon quickly decided that this sword was meant for him.

_Do you like it?_ the voice asked him.

_Yes, _Eragon replied, smiling lightly. He looked up quickly and saw a figure cloaked in white standing a few feet away from him. His face was hooded so Eragon could not make out it out.

_Who are you?_ Eragon asked slowly.

_Who I am does not matter, Eragon. _The figure moved closer to him. _However, if you would like, you can call me Kraal. I am the guardian of these parts. _

_Where am I and how do you know my name?_ Eragon asked, feeling suddenly anxious.

_I know everyone's name, Eragon, _he replied._ As for where you are, it is not for me to answer, but for you to find out._

Eragon creased his brow in frustration. _But how did I get here? Am I dead? Is this a dream?_

Kraal chuckled quietly. _So many questions. Brom was certainly right about that._

_You know Brom? Is he here? Can I see him?_

_Relax, Eragon, _Kraal replied, taking a step towards him. _Let me answer your first few questions first. First of all, no, you are not dead. But your are in an unconscious state._

Kraal smiled knowingly._ You should be a bit more careful the next time you decide to go tree climbing without the help of Saphira._

Eragon winced slightly, now remembering exactly what had happened.

_So, _Kraal continued, _this is not a dream, but in fact what you are seeing now is very real. Brom is here but you cannot not see him— at least not today. You need to return to where you belong. _

_So is this where the dead go after they die? _Eragon asked quietly.

Kraal shrugged, but did not answer. _You need to return, Eragon. Your dragon is worried sick._

_But, Kraal, I still have so many questions—_

_And I'm afraid it would take me years to answer them all. Before you leave, hear this: the words of Solembum are not false. Heed his words, Eragon, because you will need them sooner than you think. _

Kraal looked around and gently brought his hood down, revealing the pale face of an old, bald man. Eragon was pulled immediately to his eyes. His right eye was a piercing dark blue, while the left was a pale yellow.

_Go now, Eragon, and remember all that I told you._

Eragon called out to him, but the man quickly vanished before his eyes. Suddenly Eragon felt himself being pushed down and he started spinning, all of his surrounding rapidly zooming right past him.The sword was thrust from his hands. Eragon reached helplessly out for it, but to no avail.

And then darkness surrounded him once again.

A mixture of voices surrounded him, talking in hushed tones. His head ached intensely as he strained to hear what was being said. He couldn't help but groan at the wave of dizziness overwhelming him as he struggled to open his eyes.

"Eragon?" A soft and familiar voice broke through all the others. Everything became quiet.

He didn't have the strength to even open his eyes so he just groaned in confirmation. He could hear others suddenly skirmishing around him trying to do anything they could to meet his needs,

"Rest Argetlam," another voice soothed. "Do not overwhelm yourself."

Eragon inhaled lightly and gently fell back into unconsciousness.

Eragon wasn't sure how long he had been sleeping, but when he woke up next it was early morning. He was able to open his eyes without being overwhelmed by dizzy spells and he immediately knew that he was not in his tree. He did keep his eyes open long, though, deciding that keeping them closed would help him gain strength.

_Eragon, how are you feeling? _Saphira's anxious voice filled his mind.

_To be honest, _Eragon replied quietly, _I feel horrible._

_That is to be expected, _Saphira replied sharply, _after all you fell almost a hundred feet. You're lucky to be alive!_

_I know—_

_How could you be so stupid? _Saphira angry voice rang throughout his head, making him feel lightheaded. _Why in the world were you climbing a tree?! Do you know how scared I was when I sensed the danger you had put yourself in? And then when I find you in a pool of your own blood! I thought you were dead. I barely had enough of my own strength to get you here!_

_Saphira, _Eragon said weakly, knowing she had every right to be angry with him, _I am so sorry. I wasn't thinking. _

_You sure weren't!_

They were both silent for a moment.

_How badly hurt am I?_

Saphira sighed. _You broke both of your arms on the way down. A branch punctured through your ribs and you hit your head numerous times on the way down. The healers were able to fix your bones, but your head will have to heal mostly on its own. Luckily you landed on a bush. If you hadn't you and I would both be dead._

Reality suddenly hit Eragon. He wasn't just risking his own life when he tried dangerous stunts; he was risking Saphira's too.

_Saphira, I'm sorry. I never want to put you in danger._

Saphira growled lightly, but gave in. _I know, Eragon. I was just worried. You've been in and out of consciousness for six days now. This is the second time in a few short months that I thought I might lose you._

Eragon remained silent, feeling absolutely awful about the whole situation.

_Where are you, Saphira?_

_I am in our tree. Unfortunately there's no way for me to directly see you except through the window and it's a small window at that. _

_Where am I? _Eragon asked.

_You are in __Tialdari Hall in a special healing ward were only those of great importance stay. _

Eragon nodded and opened one eye to get a better look at his room. He was situated on a large bed next to an exquisite oak side table. A variety of elven flowers sat by the door for decoration and a sit small window sat above his bed, providing the only source of light. It was a fairly small room, but it was comfortable.

He then suddenly remembered his dream.

_Saphira," _he said urgently,_ I need to tell you—, _

"So the Rider had finally decided to grace us with his presence then?"

A familiar voice suddenly streamed into the room, interrupting him. He would have to talk to Saphira about the dream later.

Eragon grinned weakly. "I suppose he has."

Arya sat down next to him and smiled. "You had everyone greatly worried." She took his hand. Eragon, who was somewhat surprised at her sign of affection, just nodded apologetically.

"Even my mother came to visit you," she murmured.

"She did?" Eragon croaked in surprise.

"She did." She paused. "I told her about us."

Eragon raised an eyebrow. "How did she take it?"

Arya shrugged. "Better than I though she would. She and I actually had a much needed talk yesterday. My mother and I haven't been on great terms for the past few days. You, of course, wouldn't know why." She looked down at him guiltily. "I owe you an apology, Eragon."

"For what?"

"For pushing you away from me. For not telling you what's been on my mind when you have every right to know."

"You don't have to—,"

"No, Eragon, you deserved to know what was going on."

Eragon sighed and closed his eyes, waiting for her to go on.

"I suppose I should tell you, then. I'm afraid you won't like what you're about to hear."

Eragon grinned. "I think I can handle it."

So Arya told him everything. He listened in growing shock as she told him that his father killed her own. That Oromis had seen everything. That Morzan, his own father, actually _laughed_ after he took the Elven king's life.

Eragon couldn't help it. He felt so painfully responsible for his father's actions. He knew that it was unfair of himself to do so, but it was simply how he felt. He had no idea what to say to Arya.

"I… I'm so sorry."

Arya shook her head. "It took me a few days to truly understand, Eragon, but _you_ are not your father. The only thing you have of his is his blood. You were not raised by him; you have never even met him. You never even knew who he was until your were sixteen. You have no need to apologize for another person's actions."

"Your father is dead because of my father, Arya," Eragon said weakly. "It is hard for me to look at you and not feel guilty. He is the reason you never got to know your father!"

"Eragon," she said quietly, trying to calm him down, "do not worry. I do _not_ or ever _will_ blame you!"

She stood up quickly. "You need to calm down and get some rest. I will give you some time to think about this." She gently placed a hand on his bandaged forehead and then turned and left.

_Eragon, _Saphira said as soon as she left, _please to not dwell on this. Arya does not blame you and I'm sure Islanzadi_ _does not either. You mustn't tire yourself over this matter. Promise me that you won't._

Eragon closed his eyes. He knew that Saphira and Arya were right, yet he still couldn't help the guilty feeling that lay in the back of his head.

_I promise, _he said, at the same time trying to convince himself.

_Good, _Saphira said. _Now what were you about to tell me before Arya conveniently interrupted?_

_I will tell you later, _Eragon said as he slowly drifted off to sleep. _I am much too tired now._

And with that he gently fell asleep.

**A/N: **Eragon likes to get hurt doesn't he? Remember to read and review!


	12. Chapter 12

Eragon rocked back and forth in his chair waiting patiently for Oromis to speak. It had been only a few days since his fall and he had finally gotten a chance to tell his master of his recent dream (or vision—he wasn't quite sure what to call it). He and Saphira had discussed it earlier and had come to the obvious conclusion that this dream had to be significant, though in what way, they were not sure.

Of course, the dream was certainly not the only thing on his mind. Arya's little piece of news about their fathers floated constantly throughout his mind. He did his best to try to block it out, but he couldn't help the guilt that tore through his heart.

"I am not quite sure what this dream meant, Eragon," Oromis finally spoke.

"I have been thinking," Eragon said, "particularly about the blue sword. While I know that this whole dream must have been important in some way, the sword sticks out most in my mind. Do you know of any existing sword that fits the sword's description?"

"I knew of a sword like it, but does it still exist? I cannot answer that."

Eragon frowned. "The man, Kraal, said that the sword was rightfully mine. What does that mean? I certainly don't think that Morzan would have owned anything like it."

"No, of course he wouldn't. But perhaps…" Oromis stared blankly at the ceiling.

"Perhaps what?" Eragon asked impatiently.

Oromis blinked. "I have come up with some theories," Oromis began slowly, "but I did not know if they were true. I think this confirms my conjecture."

Eragon was very confused. "What are you talking about, Ebrithil?"

"When you returned with the news that Morzan was indeed your father," Oromis said, "I couldn't help but feel uncertain. That was why I became so preoccupied during our meeting that day. The facts did not appear to be right. Of course, I could not know for sure, but now I think I can tell you for certain that Morzan is not your father."

Eyes widening in shock, Eragon's voice seemed to be caught in his throat.

Oromis nodded, ignoring Eragon's shocked expression. "Yes, I am sure now. You see, I believe that this man you saw, Kraal, is a descendant of Kuthian, one of the sole guardians of the Vault of Souls."

"So I was in—."

"Kraal speaks only the truth; he _knows_ only the truth. He knows everything. That is why I can trust his words. He told you that the sword was rightfully yours and so it must be."

Eragon had so many questions he wanted to ask, but knew that he should keep on this subject if he wanted answers.

"But the sword is, if what I understand you are saying, in the Vault of Souls. How can I ever attain it?"

"That is where you are wrong, Eragon," Oromis said. "The sword is not in the Vault of Souls. Kraal wants you to find this sword…Or perhaps _Brom _wants you to find it."

"Brom? But what does Brom have to do with it?"

"Don't you see, Eragon?" Oromis said, his voice rising with emotion. "The sword belonged to Brom. It was made especially for him by the elves after he became a Dragon Rider. The sword is rightfully yours, Eragon, because it has been passed down from father to son."

For the second time that day Eragon was speechless.

"You are the son of Brom, not Morzan."

A huge wave of relief flowed through his body followed by unbelievable happiness. He smiled wider than he ever had before.

_Did you hear that, Saphira? I am Brom's son! _Eragon said, unable to contain his joy.

_It is wonderful, _she replied sincerely.

"How do you know this?" Eragon said a few moments later, trying to control the urge to cry out in joy.

"I can only the guess what happened between your mother and him, but I know that Brom and Selena had quite a past. Only he can answer some of your questions, but I know that when your mother and Morzan began a relationship, Brom was devastated. He only wished for her safety. He loved her.

"Brom told me that he had been keeping an eye out for her, whether by actually watching her _from_ the castle or reaching inside her mind. Selena knew this and welcomed it. Occasionally he would meet up with her in the castle. They kept their relationship secret. Brom wanted so badly to save both her and Murtagh from Morzan, but unfortunately all he could do was watch.

"You were most likely conceived _before_ she ran away during one of their late night rendezvous. She knew that Morzan would find out that you were not his child and he would end up killing you both and then set out to find and kill the real father later. She wanted to keep you and Brom safe, so she ran away.

"At this time, I know for a fact that Brom was here in Ellesméra. He saw what she had done and desired to follow her. He told me this, but I did not think he should go. Obviously Selena's had a marked life. She was the property of Morzan and that would not change. Morzan would set out to find her and if Morzan found her with him, then he was risking not only his own life, but the life of his child and the women he loved."

"So he didn't follow her?" Eragon asked quietly.

"No," Oromis replied, "he knew that if he truly loved her, then he couldn't. You see he knew very well what she was planning. He understood her well enough to know that she left to have you and leave you somewhere safe and would then return to Morzan. Selena knew her fate and she knew that she could not escape Morzan, but she could make sure that _you _did."

"But why didn't she leave me with Brom?"

"You forget that Brom had been a well-known Dragon Rider before the death of _his_ Saphira. Not only did he still have many duties to perform, he was not at all suitable father material. Brom told me this himself. He knew that he would not be able to care the way you needed to be cared for and he also knew it wouldn't be safe for you to stay with him. He had to be content to watch you from afar."

Eragon nodded, though his mind was still racked with confusion. He understood _why_ he couldn't have been raised by Brom but what he still couldn't understand was exactly why Brom never told him this in all the time they had been traveling together. He voiced this question to Oromis.

"I cannot answer this, Eragon," Oromis answered. "I have no idea myself. I am afraid only Brom can tell you why. I suppose he thought it might hinder your duties as a Dragon Rider; that you might be too distracted by this piece of news to take you job seriously."

"Of course I wouldn't--," Eragon protested.

"You can say that with confidence now, but could you have said it then?"

Silence met his ears as Eragon pondered the question. Perhaps Oromis was right: maybe he had not been mature enough at the time to have been able to handle the situation. "I… I suppose you are right, Ebrithil."

"Maybe I am," Oromis said, smiling, "but then again maybe I am not. It was only a theory. Like I said, only Brom can correctly answer your question."

"I will never know, then," Eragon stated bluntly.

"That is not what I said."

Suddenly a knew thought struck his mind, one that quickly began to overwhelm him with sorrow. And so he said exactly what he was thinking: "Brom is dead. I will never speak to him again! And," he finished somberly, "I will never know the answers I seek."

Oromis shook his head lightly. "You must open your mind to the bigger things of this life, Eragon. You may see him again someday."

Eragon laughed. "Open my mind? You, an elf, are telling me to _open my mind_? Elves are the exemplar of narrow-mindedness." At the look of Oromis' oncoming display of protest, Eragon softened his voice. "Anyway," he continued, "I'm not going to get my hopes up."

Oromis frowned. "You have forgotten your dream already?"

"What?"

"I've already told you about Kraal. And if I'm correct Kraal told you that Brom was there _within the Vault of Souls_! Perhaps you will find yourself there again in the future."

"Oh yes," Eragon scoffed, "maybe I'll just go jump off a tree and hope to have a delightfully pleasant dream and visit the Vault of Souls where I can get all the _answers_! Do you seriously think it's that easy?"

Eragon stood angrily deciding he could take this no longer. "I must go and think this over."

Oromis nodded. "Yes, of course."

Making his way outside, Eragon jumped atop Saphira and they headed home. He couldn't say he wasn't incredibly surprised at the fact that he was indeed the son of Brom, but somehow the thought seemed so right—so obvious—that he couldn't help but smack himself for not thinking of it before.

And yet Eragon was extremely saddened by the news; he would never understand why Brom never bothered to tell him before. Oromis seemed to think otherwise, but in his heart Eragon knew it could not happen. He supposed he would just have to settle for the answers he had now.


	13. Chapter 13

"He's angry, isn't he?"

Murtagh glanced pitifully at the exhausted assassin. If only this man knew what Murtagh knew. The battles that they had gone through to get to this place had been trying and had worn them out to say the least.

More than two weeks had passed since Murtagh had spoken to Nasuada and somehow she had managed to send a group of both Surdan and Varden soldiers to try to prevent the assassins from entering the country. Murtagh had witnessed three out of his four assassins brought down by the swords of Nasuada's men. Now the tired and beaten man before him was all that remained of Galbatorix's most trusted group of assassins.

While Galbatorix was steaming with anger, Murtagh was most definitely pleased. He could not, however, let his fellow traveler know that.

"Of course the king is angry, Saero." Murtagh lazily replied.

Saero glanced nervously back and forth between Murtagh and the large city in front of them: Aberon. Unfortunately for Murtagh they had made it to their destination five days ago.

"How long will it be before the reinforcements arrive, Rider?" Saero asked, gnawing on a small mushroom. Their food supply had long run out, but for Murtagh it was just a small price to pay in order to keep Nasuada safe.

"Soon."

"You said that yesterday and the day before and the day before that and--,"

"Silence!"

The normally fierce assassin cowered next to their dimly lit fire. Murtagh's voice was threatening and Saero knew not to mess with an angry Dragon Rider.

"I do not need you, Saero! Not with plenty of healthy and strong reinforcements coming to my aid. I will kill you if you say another word."

Murtagh realized he was being harsh, but he needed to act like he was extremely angry. In reality Murtagh was slightly nervous. Galbatorix was constantly patrolling his mind and he had not been able to tell Nasuada about the oncoming reinforcement of about four new assassins. He hoped that she would continue to have her men patrol the borders of Surda or else he would be forced to invade Surda with five deadly assassins.

Thorn shifted uncomfortably next to him.

He looked at the dragon curiously. _Is something wrong?_

_They are near, _Thorn responded.

Murtagh cursed inwardly, realizing that at least _some _of the assassins had obviously made it across the border.

Sure enough, two hours later, three haughty-looking men strolled into their camp. All three were heavily armored, but one seemed on the verge of fainting. He held his side tightly, wincing.

"Jerome is injured," one of the assassins, a bald man with a trimmed dark brown beard, said. "I don't think he'll be of any use."

"Kill him and be done with it," said the third, a wild looking man with piercing blue eyes and long untamed hair.

Jerome moaned softly, falling next to the fire.

"What happened?" Murtagh asked simply.

"We were ambushed by Varden soldiers," the bald man answered. "They managed to kill Pike, but we escaped any damage. Well maybe not Jerome, but he has always been the weakest of us, eh Wilhem?"

Wilhem laughed heartily, kicking Jerome in the stomach. "That he has, Marco, that he has."

"Enough," Murtagh said quietly, taking pity on the injured man lying helplessly in front of him. "Leave him be." Wilhem let out a growl but said nothing while Marco was stared curiously at Thorn.

Murtagh was in a very bad mood. He and Thorn would have to come up with a way to get rid of these new assassins and they would have to do it fast. He could try to get rid of them himself, but Galbatorix would surely find out. No, he would have to speak to Nasuada again. But Galbatorix's presence was fluttering so constantly in his mind that it would be much too risky to try anything now. There was only one solution: he would have to send Thorn.

_Thorn, I need you to find Nasuada and inform her of our new reinforcements. _

_That is a good idea, _Thorn replied, _but I am not sure if it will work. I cannot just prance into Borromeo Castle and search for her._

_Yes, _Murtagh said, _then I suppose you will have to contact her briefly and tell her where to meet you. It is better if you speak with her in person.._

Thorn nodded and quickly stood. _I will go now. There is no point in waiting._

_Good luck, Thorn, and be careful._

Thorn growled in assurance and leapt into the air, making sure to hang low towards the trees to avoid being seen from the castle.

"Where's the dragon going?" Marco asked from across the fire.

Murtagh scowled. "It is not your business."

Marco, obviously a bit too over confident for his own good, laughed arrogantly. "The king told us to keep an eye on you, Rider. Said he doesn't trust you much anymore. Wanted us to report any suspicious acts. So you be on your best behavior, Rider, 'cause your life is in our hands now."

"Is that so?" Murtagh scoffed, swiftly pulling out Zar'roc and pointing it at Marco's throat. "I'll have you know that Galbatorix trusts me more than any of you lot so don't think you're so high up on his list of favorites. The only thing you're good for is slitting people's throat. But without a blade you are nothing. I, however, carry a power you will never comprehend. No, it is not _my _life that you should be worrying about-- it's yours."

Murtagh suddenly thrust Zar'roc back in its sheath, releasing Marco. He turned around, muttering a dark spell.

Marco, who only a second before had look quite relieved that he did not have a sword threatening him any longer, turned a pale white as Murtagh's spell took effect. He let out a loud groan and rolled over to his side, sweat pouring down his face. Murtagh released the spell a second later.

"That was just a small sample," Murtagh said, not even turning around to face the assassin. Marco gasped weakly for air. "You see, there are things much, _much _worse than death."

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Nasuada trudged nervously towards the small secluded clearing that Thorn had told her to come to. When the dragon had contacted her she was most definitely surprised. But that surprise turned to worry when she realized that something must surely be wrong if Murtagh had sent Thorn to speak with her.

She found Thorn a few moments later, lounging lazily in the clearing and gnawing on the ribs of a deer. Nasuada couldn't help the nervousness that escaped her as she approached the dragon. She had always been comfortable around Saphira, but the sheer authority that seemed to boom from Thorn's huge presence unnerved her.

_That took awhile, _the dragon said, his lips curving up in what Nasuada knew was a smile.

"I'm sorry," Nasuada said quietly. "I had to find a good time to get away from my people. It took longer than I expected."

_Never mind that, _Thorn said dismissively. _We haven't much time so I have to make this quick. I'm afraid your men were not completely successful in destroying the assassins._

Nasuada nodded slowly, not at all surprised. "How many were we able to take out?"

_All but one of the first group, but unfortunately Galbatorix sent reinforcements. Your men killed one and seriously injured another, but currently we have four assassins ready to take you out._

A small sigh escaped from Nasuada's lips. "So… What now?"

_Murtagh and I have no choice; we must bring the assassins into Borromeo Castle. _

"Yes," Nasuada responded, "I understand. I do not wish to harm you or Murtagh."

For some reason Thorn let out a loud and humorous snort. Nasuada just stared at him curiously. She never could understand dragons and she wasn't about to try to figure this one out.

_It will be your job, _Thorn stated, now back to his usual stern self, _to prevent the assassins from actually making it to their goal: you._

"I will do my best."

_Unfortunately there is little Murtagh and I can do to protect you at this point. But fear not; I'm sure Murtagh would give up our lives just to keep you safe._

"Thorn--," Nasuada said, feeling uncomfortable with that idea. Thorn, however, cut her off.

_Let's not worry about that now, _he said, shaking his head wearily. _I must go. Good luck._

With that Thorn leaped into the air with incredible ease. Nasuada watched him slowly disappear, trying to figure out what she would need to do in order to prevent the assassins from reaching her.

_Oh well, _Nasuada thought tiredly, _that's just another thing to add to my already overflowing to-do list. _

**A/N: **Once again sorry for the long wait. I can't believe it's been over a month (almost two actually) since I last updated. Time's going by way too quickly. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and don't forget to leave a review! They might just make me write faster... ;)


	14. Chapter 14

Nasuada was worried. She had literally dozens of worthy soldiers at her service, perfectly willing to give up their lives to keep her safe, yet for some reason she couldn't shake the thought of failure out of her head. She had thought of little else during the past few days and that just added to her anxiety. Truth be told, Nasuada had just the tiniest hope that her men _would_ fail. She knew that the attack would end in one of two things – her own death or Murtagh's death. She would gladly give up her own life to keep Murtagh safe.

She quickly pushed that thought out of her head, hoping it would never come to that, because she knew that for the sake of The Varden and her people, her life was of utmost importance. Murtagh knew this too, which worried her. He would certainly end his own life to keep her safe. There was no doubt in her mind where that was concerned.

"My Lady," a voice rang from behind her.

Nasuada turned around to see the source of the voice. Orik was walking solemnly towards her. She smiled in greeting as he stood next to her. They were standing on the balcony of the highest tower in the castle where you could look over the whole kingdom. Nasuada had always loved to come here to think; she was seldom interrupted here.

"Any news?" Nasuada asked quietly.

"I'm afraid so," Orik replied glumly. "They are coming."

Nasuada furrowed her brow, letting out a long and frustrated sigh. "That is to be expected."

"Yes," Orik agreed. He paused for a second, stringing his hand through his long beard, obviously deep in thought. "Nasuada, you know that you _must_ stick to the plan."

Nasuada couldn't help but glare at the dwarf. "Of course I do, Orik."

"I know it is hard," Orik said, sighing softly, "but _he _would want you to stay safe as well."

Nodding in defeat, Nasuada watched as the sun began to make its descent downward. It would not be light for much longer and that did nothing to calm Nasuada's nerves.

"We don't have much time," Orik said, taking her by the arm. "You need to get inside the tower."

"Yes, of course," Nasuada said, letting Orik lead her into the dark castle.

"Getting rid of the assassins should be easy," Orik said as the both made their way inside. The door swung shut behind them and Orik locked it securely. "Getting rid of Murtagh, however, will be the tough part."

"Do not hurt him," Nasuada said quickly. "We owe him that much after all he's done for us— after all he's done for _me_."

They were now in a small, circular room. Only a small cot and a basin of water occupied it. A dimly lit torch was the only source of light. It was obviously not the most comforting room to stay in, but it would have to do.

"But what are we to do?" Orik said, motioning for Nasuada to take a seat on the cot. "He is much too large of a threat to let go."

"Take him prisoner," Nasuada said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"He will surely escape!"

"Orik, you must trust him. _I_ do! Doesn't that mean something to you?"

"Of course it does, Nasuada," Orik replied, looking defeated. "I _do _trust him. It's Galbatorix I don't trust and, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the bastard currently possessing Murtagh?"

"He is," Nasuada said, "but there isn't much Galbatorix can do if we capture Murtagh."

"Oh I'm sure there are many things he could do," Orik muttered darkly. He started pacing pointlessly around the room. Nasuada watched him patiently, knowing that he still had much to say.

"Listen," he said after a few minutes, "I will stay here with you. If--,"

"No," Nasuada interrupted, "you are needed elsewhere. I will be fine alone."

Orik looked at her strangely, as if debating whether he trusted her or not. "Very well," he said finally, "but you must not let _anyone_ in here. The doors are locked securely. We have men on the outside of both doors guarding you. The assassins shouldn't make it up here alive, but I wouldn't be surprised if Murtagh showed up with his dragon outside. Hopefully he won't try anything, but we have around twenty soldiers out there ready if he does.

"Nasuada, you _cannot _let him in if he calls for you. Even if it sounds like he is in pain. I cannot express to you how important it is that you follow my instructions. He may not want to hurt you, but Galbatorix does, and Murtagh might have no choice."

"Murtagh is supposed to be looking for Arya," Nasuada pointed out. "He won't be trying to find me."

"That may be," Orik gruffly replied, "but he's not dumb. Galbatorix will soon know that Arya isn't here and he'll send him after you."

Nasuada nodded, knowing immediately that the dwarf was right. "I will not let him in."

"Good," Orik said. He sighed softly and turned to leave. As he reached the door he turned back and smiled kindly. "Whatever happens, Nasuada, we will not let them hurt you."

"Thank you, Orik," Nasuada responded gently, "and good luck."

Orik grunted in affirmation and quickly disappeared behind the door.

Laying down on the cot, Nasuada gently closed her eyes. She heard a few deep voices outside both doors and knew that her guardians must have arrived. She turned her head and glanced at the water basin, hoping that somehow the assassins hadn't managed to poison their water. She was sure they hadn't, but Nasuada couldn't help but worry. An exasperated sigh escaped her lips as she forced herself to think happier thoughts.

"Oh well," Nasuada murmured, "I suppose all I can do now is wait."

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Murtagh clutched tightly onto Thorn as they circled over the castle. Their job was to search for Arya and kill her, but she didn't seem to be anywhere near the castle. This did not surprise Murtagh one bit; he was sure that the moment the green egg had hatched for her, she and her dragon had fled, no doubt with Eragon and Saphira. They all knew that Galbatorix would surely go after Arya and that she was entirely useless to Galbatorix. The King certainly had no problem getting rid of her and her dragon; it would be considered a triumph.

_Forget the elf, get the girl, _Galbatorix's gruff voice ordered through his mind.

Murtagh couldn't do anything but agree with his master.

_She will most likely be in that tower, _Murtagh said grudgingly to Thorn, glancing over at the highest tower in the castle.

_Probably, _Thorn replied, equally resentful. _After all there are a large group of soldiers on top, no doubt guarding the girl. They weren't very subtle about it._

_Let's go then._

_Murtagh, _Thorn said quietly, heading towards the tower, _this does not bode well. We will surely be able to kill all of the soldiers. Then all that's left to do is kill Nasuada._

Murtagh nodded solemnly. _And we won't let that happen will we, Thorn?_

Thorn paused. _So you're saying…_

_Yes, _Murtagh replied gently. _We must sacrifice ourselves._

Thorn let out a sad moan, but flew faster than ever towards the tower. _It must be._

As they reached the tower, volleys of arrows came flying towards them. Murtagh blocked them effortlessly with a small flick of his hand.

"Jierda theirra kalfis," Murtagh yelled. His spell went flying towards the soldiers and within second they lay groaning on the floor, unable to move. Thorn hovered above the men, releasing a torrent of fire from his mouth and onto the suffering soldiers.

Murtagh jumped off of Thorn and onto the balcony. Thorn took root upon the top of the tower. Some men still lay moaning in agony as their life slowly drained away while others lay motionless on the floor.

"Forgive me," he muttered sorrowfully to the soldiers. He stepped over them and made his way towards the door. Murtagh looked up at Thorn, his friend and partner. He had stuck by Murtagh through the hardest of times. He did not deserve this fate.

_I am so sorry, Thorn, _he said quietly, _you deserve so much better than me. You should have chosen a more noble and selfless Rider._

Thorn snorted angrily, letting out a dangerous growl. _Do not dare criticize my choice of Rider! I stand by my decision, even now! Besides, _he said in a much more gentle tone, _you cannot be much more noble or selfless than this. You are giving up your life so that others may live. I have never been more proud to be your dragon._

Murtagh smiled up at his dragon, thankful that he would not have to face death alone.

_This is it then, _Murtagh said and for some odd reason he kept smiling. _I suppose I'll see you on the other side then, eh?_

_Yes, _Thorn grunted, grinning slightly, _I suppose so._

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Nasuada sat in silence, fear gripping at her insides. Her breathing was heavy and a bead of sweat ran gently down her face. A moment before she had heard screaming and moaning outside, but now it was completely silent. That could not be good.

A small movement was heard outside the door. Someone was surely still out there, alive, and most likely trying to get in.

Suddenly the door fell right from its hinges, landing with a bang. Nasuada yelped in shock, but was quickly silenced by the figure standing just outside the door.

Murtagh stood there, looking completely different than she remembered. His normally clean shaven face was replaced by a newly emerging beard and his usual lively eyes looked sunken from exhaustion. His long brown hair had grown wildly down past his shoulders. He was taller than she remembered, although he had surprisingly gained some weight.

_Probably all muscle, _Nasuada couldn't help but think.

"Murtagh," she muttered, getting up to greet him.

He raised up a hand in protest. Behind the other door, Nasuada could hear the soldiers coming to her rescue. They yelled for her to let them in, but she did not budge.

He reached for his sword. Nasuada watched him anxiously. Very slowly, as if he didn't trust himself, he pulled Zar'roc out of its sheath and placed it on the ground. He pushed it gently towards her and a second later, it landed silently at her feet.

"Murtagh, what--."

"There is nothing else I can do. You must."

"I must what?" Nasuada said, her voice rising in fear. She knew what he meant but she could not bear to hear him say it aloud.

By now the soldiers were beating on the door, trying desperately to save their leader.

"You know what you must do." Suddenly, so much so that she didn't even have time to blink, Murtagh fell to the ground, screaming in agony.

"Murtagh!" she cried running towards him.

"_NO_!" Murtagh screamed as she made her way to his side. He moaned softly as he tried to speak. "I do not trust myself now. He knows what I am trying to do and he is trying to take over my body completely." Crying in pain, he tried to push himself away from her.

"You must do it now, Nasuada!" Murtagh cried. He closed his eyes closed in intense concentration. "I can't hold him off much longer!"

"I can't, Murtagh! I won't let you die!" A small sob escaped her lips.

"Take the sword, Nasuada," he mumbled weakly. "It's the only way."

Nasuada shook her head defiantly, despite the sobs that racked her body.

"NOW!" Murtagh screamed as more pain seemed to rip through his body. He let out a small yelp as he clenched his fists together. Nasuada could see tears streaming down his face.

Nasuada knew she needed to do it. Seeing him in such pain, she knew that the only way to end it would be to end his life. Galbatorix now knew where Murtagh's loyalties truly lied and the only punishment for that was death.

Cursing Galbatorix and weeping harder than ever, Nasuada picked up Murtagh's sword and walked slowly towards him. He opened his eyes as she reached him. Sweat covered his face and, wincing at the same time, he beckoned her forward.

"Do it."

Nasuada lifted the sword up, shaking her head in terror. "I love you, Murtagh."

Murtagh let out a loud cry and nodded, wincing as he tried to smile. He appeared in too much pain to speak, but she knew he felt the same way.

Slowly, she brought the sword down.

_BANG!_

Suddenly a group of soldiers were upon her, throwing her down. Nasuada did nothing to try to escape their grasp.

Through her swollen eyes she saw Orik crouch over Murtagh. He appeared to thrust something into Murtagh's body, but she could not tell what it was. Blackness began to surround her and with one last sob, she closed her eyes, surrendering herself to the darkness.

**A/N: **Wow, I really surprised myself by writing this chapter so fast. But I gotta say that your reviews really encouraged me to start writing this chapter. I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I hope you enjoyed reading it. I can't say for sure when the next chapter will be up, after all I start school tomorrow, but hopefully I'll find some more inspiration and get the next one up soon.

Sorry I haven't been responding to reviews. I've been so busy lately that I haven't had time. But I do want to thank everyone who's been reviewing. You guys are the reason I keep writing.

So, on that note, don't forget to review!


	15. Chapter 15

Voices filled Nasuada's mind, some of which she recognized and some she didn't, whispering rather loudly. She knew Orik was there and she thought she heard King Orrin. She opened her eyes, wondering exactly what was going on. The sudden rush of light overwhelmed her, however, and she shut her eyes almost immediately, wincing. Her head was throbbing for reasons she didn't understand.

"I think she just opened her eyes!"

Yes, that was definitely Orrin. She placed her hand on her forehead, trying to stop the pain. The constant noise around her only made it worse.

"Sorry to interrupt," she groaned, "but can you keep the noise down. My head feels positively dreadful."

She felt a motion beside her as someone sat down next to her.

"It should, My Lady." It was Orik. "You took a fall during our rather…chaotic…rescue. You've been unconscious for almost two days."

"Oh…" Nasuada said, at a loss for words. The memories of the other night came flashing into her mind.

"Orik!" Nasuada sat up, her eyes flying open, and reached for the dwarf, gripping his arm in sudden intensity. She simply _had _to know what happened to Murtagh.

Orik sighed, appearing to know exactly what she was going to ask.

"I followed you're orders, Nasuada," he said wearily, motioning for to sit back down and relax.

"So he's--,"

"Alive? Yes, but barely."

Nasuada sighed heavily in relief. "What happened, Orik? You all came in to rescue me and then everything went black. And I saw you stab Murtagh!"

"Yes," Orik said grumpily, "well, I didn't stab him, I simply sedated him. He fell into unconsciousness right away. Hasn't woken up since, I'm afraid."

"Where are you keeping him?"

It was Orrin who answered. "The dungeons, of course. He _is_ a criminal after all."

Nasuada glared at him. "He is _not_ a criminal, Orrin. He had no choice but to follow Galbatorix. He gave the green dragon egg to us! It is because of him that we have gained a huge advantage over Galbatorix!"

"Yes, well--,"

"Don't you see? He was willing to die for me! He wanted me to kill him the other night. He was going to sacrifice himself so that _I _could live." By now tears were streaming down her eyes and her head was throbbing worse than ever.

"Nasuada," Orik said quietly, gently pushing Nasuada down back into her bed, "please calm down."

She shook her head wearily, wiping the tears from her eyes, but obeyed. She closed her eyes once more and sank into her bed. Orrin hesitantly placed a hand on her bed.

"I am sorry for upsetting you, Nasuada," Orrin said gently, after a few moments. "I did not know how deeply Murtagh cared for your safety. He must be a good man to be willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good."

Nasuada placed her hand on his and nodded, accepting his apology but too tired to speak.

"My Lady," Orik began tentatively, "I am afraid that we will have to keep Murtagh in the dungeons. We do not know if he is still in Galbatorix's control. If he is, then we can't risk letting him escape. There is a chance, however, Murtagh could have beaten Galbatorix."

"What?" Nasuada muttered. "How?"

"Well, from what Thorn has told us--,"

"Thorn? You spoke to Thorn?"

"Yes," Orik replied, "the dragon is weak, but he is not unconscious, which, I think, is a very good sign. Anyway, Thorn saw everything that happened between you too. He told us everything. Murtagh was fighting against Galbatorix, using every fiber of his being to defy the king. He just might have been able to gain enough power to dispose of him."

"But Eragon said Galbatorix knows Murtagh's true name."

Orik nodded. "That is true and we do not know how that will come into play, but if Murtagh was able to successfully throw Galbatorix out of his mind, he might just be powerful enough to prevent the king from entering again. That's what we're hoping for, anyway."

"But how will we know for sure?"

"We won't. That is why he's going to need to stay in the dungeons for the time being. Do not worry, though, he is being tended to by the best healers in the castle. We will not let him die."

"What about Thorn?" Nasuada asked quietly, feeling a strong rush of gratitude towards the dragon. "Where will he stay?"

"He has always been too powerful to let Galbatorix into his mind. We are letting him roam free." 

"Good," Nasuada muttered, suddenly feeling even more tired than she had before.

"I suppose you'll want to see Murtagh, but that'll have to wait until you've fully recovered," Orik murmured. "For now, though, get some rest."

She happily obliged.

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Two days later, as a newly healed Nasuada prepared to go see Murtagh—whether he was awake or not, Orik arrived to announce that Murtagh had indeed woken only a few minutes earlier.

"Wonderful," Nasuada said cheerfully, looking herself over in the mirror. Aside from the mild cut on her forehead, which was gradually mending, she looked as good as new. "And how is he?"

Orik shrugged. "Very weak. He'll be asleep again soon, so I'd best hurry up if I were you."

"Oh, yes," Nasuada said, taking one last look in the mirror, "of course. I'll be off then."

She made her way quickly towards the dungeons. She couldn't help but feel a bit nervous about what condition she would find him in. She wondered worriedly if he was mentally stable or if he remembered anything from the other night. Her main concern, though, was to get to him before he fell asleep again. He had lost a huge amount of energy trying to overpower Galbatorix and she knew it would be a good long while before he gained it back. Somehow, though, she knew he would want to see her. She hoped that motivated him to keep his eyes open for a few more minutes.

She arrived in the dungeons a few minutes later. A soldier greeted her at the entrance.

"My Lady," he said, "if you will follow me, I will lead you to the Rider's cell."

She nodded and quickly followed them down the long and dark hall, though it was more akin to a tunnel. Their only source of light came from the torches situated on the walls. As she walked, she heard the dripping of water against the cold stone floor. The dampness of the dungeons gave the area an odd smell that Nasuada didn't care for.

Finally, after traveling a good way down the hall, they reached a large door. Two large men stood guard. They nodded at the soldier in acknowledgment and then turned around, unlocking the door. They quickly stood aside as the door swung open, allowing her entrance.

"We should be able to here if anything odd is going on," said one of the guards kindly, "but be sure to holler if you need us."

"I will, thank you," she replied, smiling lightly. She wasn't sure, however, she wanted them listening in on their conversation.

Upon entering the room she found Murtagh lying still on a small bed. He looked comfortable enough, but Nasuada wished he could be in a more colorful environment. The cell was rather large, but, except for two torches, it was extremely dark. It was damp and the whole mood of the room seemed far too depressing. The smell didn't help either. It was a mixture of old remedies and healing potions combined with the smell that came from the dampness of the dungeons. The smell reminded her of a piece of moldy bread she had once had the misfortune to encounter when she was younger. It certainly did nothing to ease her stomach.

She situated herself on a chair next to Murtagh's bed. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be sleeping, his chest rising in slow but steady breaths. Nasuada sighed and took his hand in her. It was cold, she noticed, and so she tenderly rubbed it with her own.

"Murtagh…" she murmured, hoping he was still awake. A small squeeze of her hand told her he was. She smiled happily down at him and bent down to place a kiss on his forehead.

He cracked open both eyes slightly. She could tell that even this tiny movement took all of his strength. A tiny grin appeared on his face just as a tear slid down her own face. She couldn't believe that he had made it through this. He had been so strong and the fact that he had been willing to give up his life for her only made her love him more.

"Nasuada," he said so quietly that she could barely make it out.

"Shhh," she whispered, affectionately stringing her hand through his hair. He looked sickly, that was for sure, and she wondered how long it would take to get him looking like the Murtagh she remembered. His stubble had turned to a beard since she had last seen him four days before. No one had cleaned him up and Nasuada made a mental note to have someone do so. Perhaps she would even do it herself.

"Nasuada," he said again, this time louder.

"What is it, Murtagh?" she asked quietly, staring intently.

"I…I'm sorry. For everything." He appeared to have found his voice, although it was strained.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she said sweetly, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

His head swayed slightly to the side and she could tell he was trying to shake his head, but he said nothing.

"Everything worked out just fine," she murmured.

He let out one long sigh and very slowly nodded. "I suppose so," he whispered. "Better…than I…thought, anyway." It took him awhile to finish his sentence and she knew that his strength was quickly fading. He needed more sleep.

Still, she needed to ask him: "Do you think you really were able to get rid of him, Murtagh?"

"I can't say for sure… I hope so." His voice wavered slightly but he continued, "Nasuada…You cannot let me out of here. You can't… trust me…until he's dead."

"But, Murtagh, that could take years!"

He shook his head and swallowed hard. "We… we need Eragon. You must send for him."

"But I don't understand. How can he help?"

"He and Arya are the only ones who can defeat them," he muttered.

She nodded slowly. "Of course, I'll send word to them right away. Perhaps Eragon will be able to tell if you were able to get rid of Galbatorix completely."

Murtagh shrugged.

"Alright then, you need sleep." Nasuada made to get up but his hand still clung to hers as he tried to pull her back.

"Wait," he said and she could not refuse.

"I need you to know," he said seriously, speaking very clearly and with all of his remaining strength, "that I love you too."

She closed her eyes and nodded, trying to prevent the tears from falling. It was so wonderful to hear him say that and to think that after all this time he had felt something for her as well.

Slowly she brought her lips down to his in tender kiss. She felt his smile against her lips and she, too, could not help but do the same. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to last a lifetime. It was a symbol of their love for one another; the first, she was sure, of many more to come.

"Good night," she murmured, brushing her lips against his forehead. He tried to protest but they both knew it was in vain. Lightly she kissed his cheek and turned to leave, squeezing his hand one last time.

As she made her way back to her room, she wondered what the future held. She would have to contact Eragon as soon as possible, but what would happen when they returned she did not know. Would they have to be on the offensive, bringing their army _to _Galbatorix and declaring battle? Or would they have to simply wait for him to come to _them?_

Whatever happened, though, Nasuada was thankful for one thing: she would always have Murtagh by her side.

**A/N: **Well, another chapter in record time. Yeah I'm on a roll! We're going back to Eragon next chapter just to let you know.

Thanks for reading and please be sure review! I'm gonna try my best to respond!


	16. Chapter 16

Arya sat comfortably underneath the Menoa tree, leaning against Eragon, who was sitting quietly next to her. He had been very solemn ever since he learned of his true heritage. She had been shocked, but pleased, when he told her that Brom was his father. It seemed natural that an honorable man such as Eragon would come from such an equally admirable sire.

She knew that Eragon had been angry at first – angry at Oromis for not telling him sooner, angry at Brom for _never_ telling him, and angry at himself for not considering it before. Arya kept telling him that he could not blame himself or anyone else for not learning of it sooner; this was simply the way things were supposed to be.

He calmed down a little while after he had time to think and even apologized to Oromis for his behavior, although Arya was not exactly sure what his behavior had been like. She could only imagine that the shock of it all had taken him buy surprise and, in turn, made him angry.

Arya's mother had welcomed the news with joy. There was no denying that Islanzadi was more than relieved at the fact that Eragon was the son of someone much more honorable than Morzan. Needless to say, she was no longer quiet and stiff around him, but rather jovial and kind.

"I've been thinking," Eragon said, turning to face her, "about the sword."

Arya nodded. They had discussed his dream a few times before and it seemed that Eragon's main focus was now on trying to find more about the sword.

"What about it?"

"Do you think it's here, in Ellesméra?"

"Perhaps…" The truth was, Arya had never considered that before, but now that he mentioned it, it did seem very plausible.

"Saphira and I have been discussing it and we've decided that there is no way Brom had the sword with him when he traveled with us. So where could he have left it but here?"

"With Jeod, perhaps?" Arya replied.

"No," Eragon said, shaking his head firmly, "he'd have mentioned it when we stayed with him, I'm sure of it. It _must _be here."

"Have you consulted Oromis on this matter?"

Eragon turned away from her and stared wearily ahead, his eyebrows narrowed, as if deep in thought. "Of course, but he has not been able to give me any useful information."

Arya remained silent, leaving each of them to their own thoughts. She was sure Brom had hidden the sword somewhere and Ellesméra seemed to be a good place to do so. Brom most likely had thought of this place as his home for a period of time. It would only make sense to hide one of his most prized possessions in a place he could trust.

Another thought struck Arya: perhaps he had taken it with him to Carvahall and had left it behind when he left to travel with Eragon. She voiced this thought to Eragon.

"I've thought of that, as well," he murmured, "but Saphira and I have both concluded that it wasn't likely. He would not leave something so priceless and rare behind. After all, knowing Brom, he most likely knew there was a chance he would never return. No, I'm absolutely convinced that it's hidden somewhere here."

Arya nodded. He was probably right. But even so, Ellesméra was such a big place; there was little hope that he would ever find it. For his sake, though, she hoped he did. Finding the sword would give Eragon the sense of closure he needed over the fact that Brom was indeed. It was a precious treasure of Brom's, that, even through death, would be passed down from father to son. That, in Arya's opinion, was just what Eragon needed right now.

"Well, then," Arya said, standing up, "you'll just have to think long and hard to find the answer."

"I suppose so," he agreed, standing up and taking her hand.

"We should head to Tialdari Hall. My mother wanted us to join us for dinner."

Eragon chuckled lightly, pulling her in towards him and placing a kiss on her cheek. "Your mother has certainly been a lot more…welcoming…towards me ever since she heard about Brom."

Arya smiled teasingly. "She has? I hadn't noticed. Come on, let's get going. She might not be as hospitable if we're late."

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Eragon sat quietly, staring blankly at his hands which were folded gently on his lap. While Arya and Islanzadi talked animatedly about Arya's training, Eragon's mind was somewhere else entirely.

The memory of the sword, Eiltahl -- for that was what Brom had named it -- was still etched into his brain and he longed to carry the sapphire sword in his hands once more. It had felt so real, even though it was in fact all happening in his brain: the perfect fit of the hilt in his hand; the grip that seemed to fit the curves of his palm with acute sensitivity; the way he could swing it with such ease and accuracy, as if it was as light as a feather, despite the length of the long sapphire blade. To anyone else, it might have seemed more a decorative weapon than a sword that was actually meant for fighting, but to him it was a perfect match. He knew it was made for only his and his father's hands, no one else.

"Eragon, are you listening?"

Eragon looked around wildly to find two pairs of eyes staring curiously at him.

"I'm so sorry, Queen Islanzadi, what did you say?"

Islanzadi grinned amusedly at him behind her wine glass. Beside her, Arya was smiling sympathetically at him.

"I asked if you were enjoying your meal."

"Oh, yes," Eragon said quickly, "very much. As usual, it tastes magnificent."

"Hmmm," Islanzadi said, staring at him with twinkling eyes. "You haven't touched any of your food. Are you sure it's to your liking?"

Startled, Eragon looked down at his untouched salad. "I apologize, Queen Islanzadi, my mind is elsewhere." He took a bite of his food and smiled widely. "It really is delicious." He continued eating, still conscious of Arya and Islanzadi's eyes on him.

"What _is_ on your mind, if you don't mind my asking?" This time it was Arya who spoke.

Eragon put down his fork and smiled guiltily. "Oh, I was simply thinking about the sword again. I'm trying to figure out where Brom could've hidden it."

Islanzadi nodded and took a long sip of her wine. "Of course, that is what I assumed. You _are _in need of a new sword, after all. It seems natural that as a Dragon Rider you would only want the best and Brom's sword certainly fits that category. I'm sure you'll find it in due time."

Eragon nodded. "I hope so."

"Time will tell," Islanzadi said. "In the meantime, do not fret over it too much. It will only stress you more."

"Those are wise words," Eragon murmured. "I will be sure to follow them."

Islanzadi smiled graciously and stood. "Well, I am quite full. You must forgive me, but I've had a long day and need to retire. I shall see you both tomorrow." She nodded kindly at Eragon. "Enjoy the rest of your meal."

With that, the Queen strolled out of the room. Eragon continued to eat, realizing suddenly just how hungry he was, while Arya simply watched him, her expression unreadable as usual.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, after he had finished his meal.

She shook her head absently. "I'm only thinking."

"Ah… May I ask if what you're thinking benefits me in any sort of way?" Eragon said, grinning broadly.

Her eyes met his and she smiled. "Perhaps."

He waited for her to say more, but she did not appear to have anything else to say. "Do you care to elaborate?"

Arya's mischievous smile continued to grow. "Oh, yes, but I think I'll have to explain it to you in your room. It is not fit for discussion in this hall."

Eragon blushed slightly, but continued to stare straight into her unusually playful eyes. "To my room it is."

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It was later that night, long after Arya had returned to her own tree, that he remembered.

He was lying in his bed, trying to sleep, but not able to succumb to it. His mind was on the sword and, after trying numerous times to think of other things, he gave up and settled on trying to come up with ideas of where it might be.

Saphira was lying quietly on the floor, sleeping soundly, something Eragon envied. He desperately hoped that he would be able to get a few hours of sleep before he had to train, but right now it seemed hopeless. It was then, staring at a peaceful Saphira, her breaths coming slow and easy, that he remembered Solembum's words from what felt like so long ago:

_"When the time comes and you need a weapon, look under the roots of the Menoa tree."1 _

Eragon sat up with a grin. "Of course!" he said, punching the air.

Saphira looked up in surprise. _What is going on? _

"The Menoa tree, Saphira!" he cried. "That's where the sword is! Don't you remember Solembum's words?" He repeated them.

Saphira's lips curved into a smile. _Yes, that does make sense. But I wouldn't get your hopes up, little one, it might be another weapon. _

Eragon didn't appear to be listening; he was already up and pulling on his cloak.

_Eragon, _Saphira said as Eragon was about to exit the room.

He turned back and stared at her impatiently. _Yes? _

Saphira rolled her eyes at his childish tone and said: _Don't you think it's more complicated than that? _

Eragon stared at her curiously. _What do you mean? _

_Solembum is not a straightforward creature. When he says 'look under the roots of the Menoa tree' most would assume that is _under_ the tree and we must dig to get to it. But perhaps he meant something else. _

_What else could he have possibly meant? _Eragon asked, perplexed by Saphira's thinking. He certainly hoped it wasn't more complicated than he thought.

_Perhaps by _roots _he meant the _origin_ or _history_ of the Menoa tree… _

_Yes, _he responded wearily,_ but how on earth would we find the sword in the _history _of the Menoa tree? That is a ridiculous idea. Do you know what I think? I think Solembum meant just what he said. It's under the tree. Of course he would want us to over think the statement, he wouldn't want us to think he was being so straightforward and that, in turn, is what would make the statement so complicated. _

Saphira looked unconvinced. _You think what you like, Eragon, but don't get your hopes up. _

Eragon nodded curtly and turned to leave. "I wonder where I could find a shovel," he wondered aloud, look around pointlessly. "Of course it would be much faster if I used magic. That's what I'll do, then."

He was now outside, striding swiftly towards the tree, the moonlight guiding him along the dirt path.

_Eragon,_ Saphira's sturdy voice called to him. Up above, Eragon saw she was flying towards him, only a few feet away.

Continuing along the path, he looked up at her impatiently. _Yes? _

_The elves may like you, little one, but I don't think they'll be very fond of you anymore if they find their precious Menoa tree dug up in the morning. _

Eragon stopped in his tracks and let out a loud groan. Saphira was right. There was no way he could start digging until he had the elves' permission. For a small second, he considered going to Islanzadi right now and asking her, but he quickly threw the idea aside; it would be extremely rude of him to call at such a late hour. He would just have to wait until tomorrow.

_You're right, _Eragon said in defeat. He noticed that only a few feet away from him was the Menoa tree. He walked slowly over to it and sat down, leaning heavily against the trunk.

_As usual, _Saphira said, smiling at him teasingly as she joined him.

_It's here, Saphira, _he said seriously, looking straight into her sapphire eyes. _I can feel it. _

Saphira sat next to him and Eragon absently stroked her head. _I hope so, Eragon, I truly do. _

**A/N: **I'm so sorry I made you wait so long! I hope this will satisfy you for awhile. It's not much, but it's moving the story in the direction I want it to go. I've started the next chapter, but I have no idea when I'll finish it. Hopefully it'll be sooner rather than later.

Thanks for sticking with this story and please remember to review…it might just make me write faster ;).

1 From _Eragon _pg. 206


	17. Chapter 17

The following afternoon found Eragon back at the Menoa tree. Only a half an hour earlier, he had received Islanzadi's permission to search for the sword underneath the tree. Eragon was rather surprised at how quickly Islanzadi was able to give him that permission; when he had asked her about it in the morning she had told him she needed to consult the elders about it and that it could take awhile for them to come to a decision. She met with them immediately and, although the elders had been rather reluctant, they had agreed that, as long as the Menoa tree and its roots were not touched, he could dig.

Now he, Saphira, and Arya gathered around the tree, prepared to start digging. Islanzadi and Oromis, as well as a few of the elders, stood a few feet away, observing them carefully. This did nothing to sooth Eragon's nerves.

"_Deloi reisa!_" Eragon said, raising his palm to direct his spell and channeling Saphira's magic to help him keep steady. Very slowly, he lifted up a small amount of dirt and directed it out to the side. Arya did the same and little by little a small hole began to take shape. They did this around the whole trunk, making sure not to touch the roots, and by early evening, a hole about six feet deep and four feet wide circled the tree's trunk. The sword, however, was nowhere in sight. A huge pile of dirt lay of to the side, untouched. Islanzadi had left hours ago, as well as Oromis and the elders.

Eragon wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "The hole is rather large. Shouldn't it be here somewhere?"

"We need to dig deeper and wider," Arya said, glancing at the hole.

_Maybe it's not here,_ Saphira suggested.

"No," Eragon said steadily, "I know it's here. Now more than ever, I know. We need to keep digging."

But hours later and well into the night, the sword had still not appeared.

"Eragon," Arya said, touching his shoulder. He was still determinately lifting dirt from around the tree, although there wasn't much left to dig; the hole was ten feet deep now and at least eight feet wide. "I am afraid Saphira may be right; the sword is not here."

Eragon fell to his knees, landing gracefully onto a large pile of dirt. He was filthy, but he didn't care; he _needed_ to find the sword. "I…I thought it was here. I was so sure." He sighed in defeat and strung loose dirt through his hands.

"I am sorry, Eragon," Arya said, kneeling down next to him.

Saphira nudged him in encouragement. _We will find it, little one. We just have to be a bit more patient is all._

Shaking his head, Eragon stood up and glared at the massive pile of dirt in front of him. With a small flick of his hand he started to lift the dirt and pour it back in the hole. But before he could lift another pile of dirt, Arya pushed his hand down.

"No," she said firmly, "you are too exhausted from today's work. You don't have enough power to fill the hole right now. We will leave it for tomorrow."

"Alright," he muttered quietly, knowing she was right. He ran a hand through his dirty hair then proceeded to fall heavily down to the ground and lean against a large pine tree.

"Are you not going to return to your tree?" Arya asked.

"No," he responded, "I will sleep here. I need to think, anyway, and what better place to do so than here?"

"I will stay with you, then."

"No," Eragon said firmly. "I am sorry, but I wish to be alone."

Arya looked at him curiously, but did not protest. "Alright then. I shall see you in the morning."

Eragon frowned slightly as he watched her disappear from sight. The day had not gone the way he planned for it to go and to be honest he had no idea were to go from here. Saphira still sat next to him, apparently unfazed by his declaration of needing to be alone. Eragon didn't mind; he knew even if Saphira was not directly in his presence she would never leave him.

_What do you think, Saphira?_

_I think you need to sleep,_ she responded, as he gently patted her snout.

_I am afraid I will get very little sleep until I find the sword,_ he responded quietly.

Saphira nudged him soothingly. _You _will _find it, little one; you just have to be patient._

Eragon nodded and gently closed his eyes. Saphira was right. He would do no good to himself by continuously worrying about the sword. Besides, he needed his strength if he was going to fill in the hole the next morning. So, very slowly, he succumbed to sleep.

Flashes of his very few memories of the sword ran throughout his dreams. He saw his first memory of the sword, sticking out from the hard earth. He saw himself holding it while he spoke to Kraal and he then saw himself being pulled away from the sword. Then new images filled his mind. He saw himself holding the sword again, this time in battle, effortlessly slaying his enemies with a light thrust. It felt so real, even his dreams, and his yearning for the sword only increased.

Suddenly he saw not himself wielding the sword, but his father, the true owner. A young Brom was riding atop a sapphire dragon looking determined, thrusting the sword out in front of him, as if preparing to swing at any moment. His dragon, the original Saphira, looked straight ahead with deadly fierceness. Eragon smiled in his sleep, enjoying the sight before him, and not wanting it to end.

All of the sudden, Brom and Saphira froze in midair. Brom abruptly turned his head sideways and his lips began to move…

"My son, you are looking for my sword in all the wrong places, when it is indeed right in front of you."

Eragon's eyes widened and he tried desperately to speak, but nothing would come out. He watched frantically as Brom and his dragon slowly faded away, wishing there was a way he could speak to them.

And suddenly he was awake, breathing heavily and looking wildly around him, as if Brom was going to pop out from behind a bush at any moment.

"Saphira!" he cried aloud.

_What is it, little one? _she asked worriedly, lifting up her head to look at him.

_Brom just spoke to me in a dream,_ he stated excitedly.

_What? Are you certain?_ The confusion was clearly evident in Saphira's voice.

_Yes_, he said. _He told me that the sword is right in front of me, but I'm searching in all the wrong places. It was so real, Saphira… I don't know how, but somehow he contacted me._

It was silent for a moment as Saphira took a few seconds to process this new information.

_So, _she said a few seconds later, _if it was truly Brom, then what are we to take his advice to mean?_

_It means, _Eragon said, _that the sword is definitely in Ellesméra, but I have not been looking in the right place. _

_Perhaps, _Saphira said, _but then what would have Solembum's message meant/ There must be some sort of weapon under the Menoa tree…"_

_To be honest, I only care about Solembum's weapon right now if it is the sword. So let's think of other places the sword may be._

They both pondered in silence. There was a chance it could be hidden somewhere around Oromis' hut, but that was much too broad of an area to search and Eragon doubted they would find anything even if they tried. Besides, wouldn't have Oromis suspected if Brom had hidden something on his property?

_Eragon,_ Saphira murmured, breaking his thoughts. _Brom said the sword was right in front of you. Do you suppose he meant it was in someplace obvious or do you think he literally meant right in front of you? _

_I don't know, Saphira, _Eragon said irritably, closing his eyes in concentration.

_Because you do realize the Menoa tree is directly in front of you._

_Of course I do, Saphira! I haven't been digging a huge around some random tree all day, you know._

_If you would stop being so impatient and listen to what I'm saying you would understand that I'm saying perhaps it is _in _the Menoa tree._

"_In_?" Eragon said aloud, not hiding the frustration in his voice. "Saphira, how could Brom have possibly placed the sword _inside_ the Menoa tree?"

_Magic, perhaps?_ Saphira responded airily.

Eragon stared at her, not quite sure what to say. Now that she mentioned it, it was possible to magically place the sword inside the tree. But if Brom did do that, than how was Eragon supposed to get it out?

"What would we have to do to get it out?" Eragon asked quietly.

_Arya has mentioned several times that the tree is alive. Why don't we just ask the tree for the sword?_

Eragon thought about the absurdity of Saphira's idea. _Ask _the tree for the sword? How on earth would the tree be able to answer, even if was alive?

_Eragon, I know it sounds crazy, but there is no point in us not trying._

"It is crazy," Eragon said, "but it is also so simple. I suppose we should try it."

Saphira smiled. _Yes we should. But perhaps we should dig in the hole first so we can properly reach the tree. It would be quite rude of us to stand so far away from the tree when talking to it. We would have to yell._

Eragon smirked, but nodded in agreement. "Let's fill in the hole, then."

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The sun had just started its ascent when the two finished filling in the hole. Eragon looked tiredly upon their work and cast a spell to allow grass to begin growing again around the tree. Fresh grass quickly appeared and blended immediately with the grass that surrounded it. It certainly did not look like a ten foot hole had just been where the grass stood now.

_Are you alright, little one? _Saphira asked him. _You look a bit shaky._

_Using all this magic has worn me out, _he replied. _I just hope it was worth it._

Eragon walked towards the tree and stood directly in front of it. He placed one of his hands gently on the trunk and wondered silently about what he should say.

_Go on, _Saphira urged him.

And so he said the only thing he could think of: "Oh ancient and blessed Menoa tree, I ask for Eiltahl, the sword within you, in hope that it may be given to the heir of its rightful owner."

Nothing happened.

_Try something else, _Saphira suggested

"Ancient and blessed Menoa try, I beg of you, please return to me the sword of my father, so that I may use it for the good of mankind."

Still the tree remained motionless. Eragon hung his head in defeat.

"It's no use," Eragon said, turning to leave. Suddenly a large gust of wind almost threw Eragon backwards. The wind blew fiercely around them, whistling loudly through the trees, as if calling him. Eragon watched in awe as the Menoa tree blew to the rhythm of the wind. Slowly, so slowly that he wasn't sure if it was real, a blue light began to emit from the tree. The blue light grew and grew until it was as large as the tree.

A light, beautiful voice like no other filled Eragon's ears: "Eragon Shadeslayer, son of Brom, Rider of Saphira, and the heir of Eiltahl, asks and he shall surely receive."

Eragon was so enthralled by the bewitching voice that he did not notice the blue sword emerging steadily from the bottom of the Menoa tree's trunk. Saphira's sharp intake of breath from next to him brought him back to reality and he slowly realized that the sword was only a few feet away from him.

_Am I dreaming? Is this really happening?_

But he was not dreaming. The sword was truly there, right in front of him. As he reached for his sword, he couldn't help but be amazed at how simple it had been. All he had had to do was _ask_ the Menoa tree for the sword. He wondered if the Menoa tree would have given up the sword to just anybody, after all anybody could have asked for it. But he quickly threw that thought out of his mind; the Menoa tree would not give away Brom's sword to anyone but his true heir. Perhaps that's why it had been so simple—because the Menoa tree had been waiting for him to retrieve it ever since Brom placed it there.

And then Eiltahl was in his hands and it was all he remembered it to be and more. It fit perfectly in his hands and was as light as a feather. The sapphire blade sparkled in the morning sunlight and clashed brilliantly with the sun as Eragon gently swung the sword. Yes, it was perfect and best of all, it was real.

The wind stopped and all was still. From the corner of his eye he saw Arya and Eridor rushing towards them, Islanzadi walking quickly behind them. But Eragon could not take his eyes fully off his sword. It was as if looking away would cause it to disappear.

"Eragon!" Arya's surprised voice called out to him. He did not look her way, but instead just shook his head in disbelief. Only a short second later, she was by his side.

"Is that…" her voice trailed off as she stared in amazement at the sword.

"Yes, I knew you could find it," Islanzadi said, grinning broadly as she joined them.

He smiled and finally looked at them. "Is it not the most beautiful of swords?"

"It is certainly a grand sight," Islanzadi murmured. "I remember well when Brom used to wield it. It fit him so perfectly. I believe it fits you just as well."

"But how did you find it?" Arya asked placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I asked the Menoa tree to give it to me and so she did," he responded simply. Arya turned to Saphira for confirmation.

_It is true._

"So," Arya said, turning back to Eragon, "Brom must have placed the sword inside of the Menoa tree somehow…"

Silence hung over them as they all admired the sword.

"Well," Islanzadi said, breaking the silence, "I can already tell that today is going to be quite interesting. We haven't even had our breakfast and two major events have occurred.

Eragon turned from Eiltahl and looked at the queen curiously. "What do you mean?"

"A dove arrived from the Varden only a few moments ago carrying some rather surprising news."

"What's happened?" Eragon asked, gripping tightly onto his sword. There was something strange in her voice and he knew that whatever she was about to say was very important.

"It seems they've captured your brother and his dragon."

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed and please remember to review!


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Eragon simply stood there, unmoving, having absolutely no idea what to say. He hadn't considered the possibility of The Varden being able to capture Murtagh before. This was most likely because it seemed too farfetched, too impossible to even try to attempt. Murtagh was extremely powerful, even more so than Eragon, although he didn't like to admit it. Eragon even went as far as to believe that the only one more powerful than Murtagh was Galbatorix himself. So whatever happened, however Murtagh was captured, there was no doubt in Eragon's mind that it was Murtagh's own doing.

"How…" Eragon said, his voice shaking with emotion. "How did this happen?"

"I do not know," Islanzadi murmured. Beside him, Arya took his hand. "Nasuada did not elaborate in her letter. She simply told me that they captured your brother and was seeking your advice on what to do next."

"Nothing else?" Eragon asked hopefully. He wondered how Murtagh was doing both physically and mentally. However he was captured, Eragon knew it couldn't have been easy on him.

"Nothing else. I believe Nasuada feared the dove would be intercepted by the Empire. She most likely did not want Galbatorix to find out _how _it all happened."

"Although I'm sure he already knows," Eragon muttered, wondering how it was even possible for Murtagh to escape Galbatorix's power. After all, the king knew Murtagh's true name. As far as Eragon knew, there was no way to break free of someone else's power if that person knew the other's true name. Whatever Murtagh did to free himself must have drained him of both energy and power completely.

"They want us to return, then," Eragon stated, nodding towards Saphira.

"Yes," Islanzadi said. "I think it best if you do. I do not think Galbatorix will let Murtagh go without a fight. He will send an army to retrieve Murtagh, if not he himself. The Varden will need you to fight for them when that time comes."

Eragon nodded. "We will set out as soon as possible."

"That is a good idea," Islanzadi said, patting him gently on the shoulder. "Keep in contact with us. I fear the final battle is approaching, and when it does, I will make sure the elves are fighting side by side with your people."

"Thank you," Eragon murmured, touched by Islanzadi's devotion to helping get rid of Galbatorix once and for all. "And, of course, I will make sure we keep in contact."

Islanzadi smiled and turned to leave, saying, "I will to come see you off." With that she elegantly made her way back up the path towards her home.

"Eridor and I are coming," Arya stated, as they both watched her leave.

Eragon turned to look at her, a small smile appearing on his face. "Of course. I wouldn't expect any less of you."

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At sundown that night, Eragon stood amongst a small group, all gathered to see Eragon and his companions off. Oromis and Glaedr stood solemnly off to the side, while Islanzadi's hand sat awkwardly on Arya's shoulder, silently wishing her luck. Saphira and Eridor sat side-by-side, anxious for the journey that lay ahead.

Eragon has only one thing in mind as they said their goodbyes and that was his brother. He needed to make sure that Murtagh was okay, but most of all, that he was safe for others, particularily Nasuada, to be around. So, with Eiltahl strapped firmly onto his belt, Eragon boarded Saphira.

"Good luck, Eragon," Oromis said, nodding respectfully towards Eragon.

Eragon strapped himself tightly to Saphira's saddle and smiled. "Thank you, Ebrithil."

"Your anxiety is palpable, Eragon," Oromis said, "but I would not worry. Your brother is in good hands."

"To be honest," Eragon said, glancing towards the sky, "it is not my brother I'm worried about, but rather Nasuada and the others. I don't think they truly understand what they're dealing with."

Oromis nodded grimly. Islanzadi stood stiffly beside him, staring pointedly at Eridor, who was scratching excitedly at the ground, ready to depart.

"Yes," Oromis murmured, "I am afraid the situation is more dangerous The Varden realizes. I assume, however, that as soon as you arrive, you will make sure everything and everyone is under control."

Eragon chuckled quietly. "Yes, I hope so."

He gently patted Saphira. _Are we ready?_

_Of course, _she replied.

"Farewell, Ebrithil, Queen Islanzadi."

Arya, who had been silent until now, murmured quietly, "Goodbye, Mother."

Islanzadi nodded stiffly. "Goodbye, my daughter. Be safe."

Arya sighed in response, nodding slightly, and turned to look straight ahead of her. Eragon glanced at Saphira in confirmation and, with fierce swiftness, they launched into the air, Eridor following steadily behind Saphira. As they soared higher and higher, Eragon did not look down at the now faraway forest; instead he kept his eyes focused to horizon, towards his destination, hundreds and hundreds of miles away.

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They did not camp that night, but continued to fly straight into the night. Although it was rather cold, this did not bother any of them. On the contrary, Eridor seemed rather pleased, although by mid-afternoon the next day, both Saphira and Eridor were exhausted.

_We should land now, so you and Eridor can sleep,_ Eragon said to Saphira.

Saphira, however, let out a loud growl and sped up slightly.

_We will land at nightfall._

Eragon wanted to argue with her, but he knew it would be of no use. Eridor, who was surprisingly keeping a steady pace with Saphira, looked determined as he soared through the sky.

As soon as the sun began to set, Saphira and Eridor began their descent and, just as the sun disappeared completely, they landed. They were in the desert now, having made it past the Du Weldenvarden only a few hours after they had left Ellesméra.

Eragon started a fire immediately. The Hadarac's nights were harshly cold, especially during this time of year, and, although he had experienced it before, Eragon was not quite prepared for the weather. His warm breath came out in a fog as he warmed his hands against the fire. Arya sat next to him, handing him a slice of bread and his waterskin.

"It feels like it's been so long since we last traveled," Eragon said, taking a bite of his bread.

"It does," was all she said. They ate in a comfortable silence.

Saphira and Eridor curled up on both sides of them and their body heat spread throughout their camp, something for which Eragon was extremely grateful for. Their added warmth, plus that of the fire, made Eragon drowsy. He hadn't slept much on Saphira, so he wasn't surprised as his eyes drooped and he lay gently onto his side. He felt Arya lay next to him, pressing her body against his, and throwing a blanket over them both. She draped an arm over his waist and gently pressed a kiss to his cheek before whispering goodnight. It was not long before Eragon felt himself drift off into that familiar dreamland he called sleep.

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Only two days later, they found themselves nearing Aberon. As the great city came into view, Eragon noticed a large red figure flying straight ahead. It only took a second for him to realize it was Thorn.

A few moments later he joined them in the air, taking flight next to Saphira

_I did not think you would return so swiftly, Shadeslayer._

_Nor did I, _Eragon said, smiling at the dragon.

_Murtagh will be happy to see you,_ Thorn said. Abruptly, he plunged towards the ground in a steep dive, before suddenly pulling back up and flying next to Saphira again. Eragon grinned, happy that Thorn was in such a good mood, knowing that it must mean Murtagh was doing fairly well. Saphira, meanwhile, let out an amused snort, while Eridor looked rather annoyed.

_I will be happy to see him, as well. How is he doing?_

_Well enough, _Thorn murmured. _Galbatorix has tried a few times to enter his mind again, but has not succeeded. It has taken a great toll on Murtagh; he is still very weak. _

Eragon frowned. He had hoped Galbatorix would not be so persistent in invading Murtagh's mind once again. Truthfully, though, Eragon knew it was only a matter of time before it happened. And the worst part was he had no idea what he'd do when it did.

They gently descended into the castle courtyard, while interested onlookers watched. As Saphira landed, he saw Nasuada rushing out of the castle, King Orrin and Orik following quickly behind her. Eragon smiled widely at the sight of her. He had missed her while he was gone; Nasuada had always been like a sister to him and he had always greatly enjoyed her company.

"Eragon, you made it back so quickly!" Nasuada cried out, as Eragon and Arya both hopped off their respective dragons.

"Yes, Saphira and Eridor were quite persistent we get here in record time.," Eragon said, grinning.

Nasuada threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. She held him there for a few seconds, before pulling away and looking seriously towards Eridor and Saphira.

"Eridor and Saphira, than you so much for getting here so quickly," she said, her voice filled with respect.

_Of course, Nasuada. _Saphira responded.

"You must both be very hungry. I believe Thorn found a suitable hunting location a few miles away. I'm sure he could show you to it. Otherwise, I'm afraid we don't have food worthy of a dragon's appetite."

Saphira snorted. _No, I'm sure you don't. We shall go with Thorn, then._

Thorn, who had just landed beside them, launched back into the air, while Saphira and Eridor quickly followed.

"Eridor has gotten so much bigger," Nasuada muttered quietly to Arya, as they watched the three dragons fly away.

"Yes," Arya replied, "and soon he'll be as big as Thorn."

Nasuada shook her head in disbelief. "They grow amazingly fast, don't they? Murtagh is quite excited to meet him." She became suddenly quiet, murmuring so softly it was hard for Eragon to hear, "Although I don't know when he will get the opportunity."

No one responded to that and all remained awkwardly silent.

"Well," Orrin said, breaking through the silence with his booming voice, "Eragon, Arya, welcome back to Aberon!"

Eragon smiled politely. "Thank you, King Orrin." He turned to Orik, who was standing off to the side patiently. "Orik", he said, grinning widely, "it is so good to see you again."

Orik chuckled quietly and moved forward to shake Eragon's hand. "Yes it is good to you, as well, Shadeslayer."

"Well," Nasuada said, and Eragon couldn't help but notice how anxious she sounded, "I think we shall get you two settled. You look absolutely exhausted."

"We weren't quite ready for your arrival," Orrin said, apologetically, staring pointedly at Nasuada, "so your rooms aren't ready for you, yet."

"That is fine," Arya said. "Perhaps it would be best if we went to visit Murtagh first, anyway."

Nasuada nodded. "I agree. He is looking forward to seeing you both. I am afraid, however, that you cannot see him alone. He is still not completely…stable." Nasuada looked slightly pained as she said this.

"Of course," Eragon said, "that is exactly what I expected."

"Alright, then," Nasuada said, "let us go."

Nasuada turned quickly towards the castle, motioning for them to follow. She led them inside the castle and down towards the dungeons. As the reached a large wooden door which, Eragon noted, was being guarded by two burly men, King Orrin excused himself. Orik nodded curtly at the soldiers and they quickly stepped aside and opened the door, revealing a dark and narrow staircase spiraling down into darkness. As they reached the dungeon, Eragon couldn't help but notice the stench of rotting and moldand wondered in horror what could be causing those smells. Slow, but steady, drips of water echoed throughout the tiny hallway.

Every now and then another hall would intersect with the hall they were currently walking down, but they kept walking onward. Soon they reached the end of the hall, where three serious looking soldiers guarded a great door. Nasuada nodded at the three of them, and two of them stood off to the side while the other turned to unlock the door. Without saying anything, the soldier walked straight into the room, while another one followed. The third soldier stayed behind, guarding the door.

"They'll have to come in with us just in case," Nasuada said, pointing inside the cell the other two soldiers had just entered. "Although I'm not sure that's necessary considering you two are both Dragon Riders."

Nasuada shook her head in obvious distaste and walked into the cell. Eragon prepared to enter, feeling quite nervous about seeing his brother in whatever condition he was in. His anxiety must have been obvious because, as he took a step forward, Arya's warm hand encompassed his and she smiled gently at him in encouragement. He smiled back, some of his fear disappearing at the sight of her comforting face, and slowly moved forward into the darkness.

He was not prepared at all for what he saw next.

**A/N: **Yay, a cliffhanger!

I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update. My only excuse is that real life has taken over. Hopefully it won't take me this long for the next chapter…

Don't forget to review!


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Murtagh was propped up against a pillow on a small bed. Eragon did a double-take when he first saw him. This was the complete opposite from the Murtagh he knew. He hadn't expected him to look so…weak.

His normally lively eyes looked sunken in, and, while he was clean-shaven, he looked unkept. His long brown hair looked clean, but it fell messily around his head, reminding Eragon of the wild men he had heard stories about as a child; the men with wild unruly hair and long beards, and murderous eyes, running around with sharp spears, killing anything in sight. As Murtagh watched Eragon near, his eyes seemed to light up, reminding Eragon of the normal Murtagh. But as he got an even better view of Murtagh's face, Eragon almost couldn't recognize him. His cheeks were sunken in and he was deathly skinny, like he hadn't eaten in ages.

It was when Murtagh's somber face broke into a smile, however, that Eragon knew this was the same Murtagh he had gotten so close to. This was his brother and, despite Murtagh's frail appearance, nothing could change that.

"Well, well," Murtagh said, grinning wider than Eragon imagined he was capable of, "look who's here."

Arya let go of Eragon's hand as he sat on a chair next to Murtagh's bed while, Nasuada, who, much to his surprise, was holding affectionately onto Murtagh's pale hand, sat on Murtagh's bed.

"Murtagh," Eragon said, beaming. "How are you?"

"As you can see, my brother, I've been better," Murtagh said, chuckling. Murtagh's sense of humor seemed to be fully intact, Eragon noticed. Murtagh nodded towards Arya.

"Aw, and you've brought your elf, of course," Murtagh said, jokingly. "You know, Arya, you've caused me quite a bit of trouble these past few weeks."

"How so?" Arya said, smiling curiously.

"Well, if it weren't for you I wouldn't be lying in this bed," Murtagh said, thoughtfully. "But then again, I suppose it's a good thing that I'm here. I should thank you, then."

Arya looked sincerely confused. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Yes," Eragon said, "how exactly did you get to be in this bed? We've yet to hear the story."

"Oh," Nasuada said, surprised, "I didn't mention it in the letter?"

"No," Arya said. "You were very brief."

"You were probably distracted," Eragon said, looking pointedly towards Murtagh and Nasuada's intertwined hands.

Nasuada blushed slightly, while Murtagh laughed. "Well," he said, "I suppose we should probably tell you what happened, then."

"Please do," Eragon said, grinning.

Murtagh then went into a long tale about how Galbatorix had sent him on a mission with a group of assassins to invade Aberon and kill both Nasuada and Arya and, therefore, Eridor. As Murtagh continued to speak, Eragon couldn't help but notice how every now and then Murtagh would twitch slightly. This didn't seem to bother Murtagh or Nasuada, so he tried his best to ignore it.

When Murtagh finished, Eragon found that he truly wasn't surprised at Murtagh's selfless act of trying to give up his life. What he was surprised at, was that Murtagh had managed to survive.

Eragon glanced at Arya, who was standing behind his chair, looking clearly amazed.

"That is…" she murmured, apparently at a loss for words. "I cannot even comprehend how you managed to escape Galbatorix, let alone survive. "

Murtagh shrugged. "Yes, I'm not sure either."

"And you say he has tried numerous times to enter back in again?" Eragon asked.

"Yes, and so far I have been able to prevent it. It takes a lot of power on my part, though. Every time it happens I feel like…" He paused, staring thoughtfully down at his hands. "I feel like I won't be able to survive another minute," he continued. "But, somehow, I do."

"That must take incredible strength," Eragon said.

"It takes all of my strength. That is why I look the way I do. Every time it looks like I'm getting back to normal, he comes back and I go back to looking like…this." He glared down at his legs and shook his head. It was obvious that this whole thing was starting to take a serious toll on him.

"But, Murtagh," Eragon said, "why doesn't Galbatorix try to enter your body when you are at your weakest?"

"Our theory," Murtagh said, glancing at Nasuada, who smiled sweetly at him, "is that my fighting him off when he tries to re-enter my body also drains him of his energy. So he can only try again when he has his strength back."

Eragon furrowed his eyebrows, taking in all the new information. He had to admit, he was confused, but if what Murtagh said was true, then Galbatorix was not in good shape.

"I think we should take advantage of the situation, then," Eragon said. "Attack Galbatorix when he's at his weakest."

"It's risky, Eragon. He won't try this much longer, especially if it is draining him of his energy every time. I say we wait."

Eragon couldn't help but smile at the irony; normally Murtagh was the impulsive risk-taker while Eragon was careful and thought things through.

"Wait, Murtagh…" he said. "Are you sure?"

It was Nasuada who spoke. "He's right, Eragon. We don't even know if our theory is correct. It would be best to wait a little while longer before we even consider making an attack."

Eragon nodded, deciding it would be best to take their side, instead of arguing. "If that is what you think, Nasuada."

"Yes," Nasuada said seriously, "I think it is what's best."

"Well, then," Murtagh said loudly, "tell us what has been going on with you? How is training?"

"Training is going well," Eragon said, looking at Arya. "Arya is, of course, already highly skilled in the ways of a Rider. Actually," Eragon said, a little more seriously, as he turned back to Murtagh, "I have something to show you."

Eragon wrapped his fingers around Eiltahl's grip, pulling the sword gently from it sheath, which was still strapped onto the belt Beloth the Wise. As the sparkling sapphire blade came into view, Murtagh's curious face turned into astonishment. Eragon held it high for him to see.

"Amazing," Murtagh murmured, admiring the sword's beauty.

"I thought you might like it," Eragon said, staring proudly at the sword.

"That sword was meant for you, Eragon," Murtagh said. "You are much better off with that sword than Zar'roc."

"I agree," Eragon said, smiling slightly.

"Did the elves craft it for you?" he asked.

"Not for me particularily," Eragon answered. "But they did craft it."

"Then who did they craft it for?"

"My father."

Silence greeted Eragon's words. Murtagh's confused face stared at the bewitching blade. Nasuada, too, looked at Eragon curiously. Arya, meanwhile, placed a hand on Eragon's shoulder.

"I don't understand…" Murtagh muttered. "Why would they make Morzan two swords? Unless…"

Eragon nodded. "Unless he was not my father," he answered for Murtagh.

Murtagh's eyes turned to him in surprise. "But Galbatorix told me Morzan was your father."

"That is because Galbatorix himself believed that to be true. Murtagh, I am only your half-brother. We share the same mother, but our fathers are not the same. This sword, Eiltahl, was crafted for my father years ago, when he, too, rode a sapphire dragon. My father was Brom, Murtagh."

Murtagh shook his head I disbelief. "I… do not know what to say."

"I know," Eragon murmured, "I was quite surprised myself."

They all remained quiet for a moment before Murtagh spoke again. "I suppose I should congratulate you, then. The better son has the better father." He laughed humorlessly, the coldness to his voice surprising Eragon.

"That's not true, Murtagh," Eragon said firmly, "and you know it. As a matter of fact, I'd go as far as to say that _you_ are the better son. I do not know if I could do what you did that day, Murtagh, when you made the decision to end your life so that others may live."

Murtagh smiled slightly, looking proudly at Eragon. "You would have done it in a second, Eragon. You're a good man." He frowned suddenly. "And in case you've forgotten, you asked me to give up my life that day on the battlefield. Remember what I said? I said no; I said no because I was selfish."

Eragon shook his head and reached out to touch his brother's hand. "No, you were scared. I would have been, as well. There no reason to be ashamed of that. Anyway, it looks like you made the right decision. You're here with us, aren't you?"

"I suppose so," Murtagh said, coughing roughly.

"You need to rest, Murtagh," Nasuada said, pushing him gently down into the bed.

"You're probably right, as usual," Murtagh said, closing his eyes.

"And you both need rest, as well," Nasuada said sternly, looking at Eragon and Arya. "I'm sure the maids have had a chance to prepare your rooms by now."

Eragon stood, looking down at Murtagh worriedly as he did. "Please don't feel sorry for yourself," Eragon said.

Murtagh shook his head, laughing quietly. "I'll try not to, brother."

Eragon touched Murtagh's brow lightly and then turned to leave. "I will visit again tomorrow," he said, as he reached the door.

"Good, I shall see you then," Murtagh said. Eragon and Arya stood at the door, watching as Nasuada kissed Murtagh gently before she joined them.

"Do you think I should have waited a little while longer before telling him?" Eragon asked Nasuada as they walked up the spiraling staircase, leading back up into the upper castle. Eragon winced as they walked through the door at the top, his eyes adjusting to the light.

"No," Nasuada said, turning to look at him as they walked. "I think it was a good idea to tell him right away. It'll give him a little while to get used to it, I think."

"I just know he's feeling sorry for himself," Eragon said, shaking his head.

"He probably is," Nasuada said, "but he will get over it quickly. He always does. I do think, though, that Murtagh always felt a little better with himself, knowing that he wasn't the only one that had to suffer the fact that the blood of Morzan flowed through his veins. Obviously it gives him a bad reputation with the likes of The Varden. Honestly, I couldn't care less."

"Nor could I," Arya said seriously. She and Eragon stared deeply at each other in obvious understanding. He nodded in silent gratefulness to her.

"My Lady," the high-pitched voice of a woman a few feet away, tore Eragon's face from Arya's. "The quarters you requested are ready."

"Wonderful. Thank you, Marie."

Marie smiled humbly at Eragon and Arya and bowed, before walking in the opposite direction. Nasuada led Eragon to the same room he had slept in the last time he was in Aberon.

"Arya," Nasuada said, "you've the same room you had last time. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I expect Orrin will be having a huge banquet prepared in light of your arrival, but do not worry about making your presence known tonight. Just get some rest."

"Thank you, Nasuada," Eragon said.

"Good night," Nasuada said sweetly, before making her way down the long hall and then disappearing behind a corner.

Eragon stood there, still feeling guilty about Murtagh's reaction to his news. Arya noticed this and lightly grasped his hands in her own.

"Don't worry about Murtagh," she said gently. "Nasuada is right; he will get over it quickly."

"I know," he murmured, "I just feel bad..."

"What is there to feel bad about? You cannot pick your own parents." Eragon nodded, but the worry was still evident on his face.

"Eragon," she said, "promise me you won't worry."

"Alright," Eragon said, smiling lightly, unable to disappoint her. "I will try."

"You know Saphira will tell you the exact same thing. It's no use worrying over this."

"He's my brother, though," Eragon said, this time a bit less morose. "It is my job to worry about him."

Arya shook her head and laughed. "If you say so, Eragon…I am going to my room." She lightly kissed his lips. "Goodnight."

"You know you can stay," he said, the hope in his voice quite evident.

Arya grinned. "On a normal occasion I would, but I am really quite tired and I know you are too."

"Yes, I suppose you are right. I shall see you in the morning, then." He placed one more kiss on his lips before gently pulling away. "I love you."

She smiled and kissed his cheek before saying, "I love you, too."

With that, Eragon retreated into his room, left alone to his thoughts.

**A/N: **I got this up way quicker than I expected. Hopefully it satisfies you all. And hopefully I can get the next chapter up this fast….Dunno if that'll happen though, because this was really fast for me, but we'll see.

Anyway, don't forget to review (and thanks to all those who have so far)!


	20. Chapter 20

It was dark. The few torches that lit the room had dimmed and now it was hard to make out anything farther than a few feet away. This didn't bother Murtagh. In fact, he welcomed the dark. It helped him to forget about all the troubles in his life and just rest. Still, the lingering worry of the threat of Galbatorix was always there and, although the dark helped soothe his mind, it could not diminish that fear.

Murtagh closed his eyes. His headaches always went away when he did this, and that was another reason he loved the dark. It was so much easier to drift away, to forget, when you had nothing to keep you awake—distracted.

Unfortunately for tonight, Murtagh couldn't have been more distracted. His body wanted nothing more than to rest, but his mind was running wildly in different directions and would not let him.

_Last night things had been so much simpler,_ Murtagh thought with a sigh.

A loud snort echoed throughout his mind and Murtagh laughed hollowly.

_You're right, Thorn, who am I kidding? My life has been anything but simple!_ _But still…_

_You wish that you remained ignorant of the fact that you and Eragon do not share the same father?_ Thorn finished for him.

Murtagh nodded. _Does that sound selfish of me? Wanting to share this burden with him—the burden of being not only the son of one of the Forsworn, but the son of Morzan?_

_No, _Thorn answered and Murtagh could tell he was telling the truth. _I think it makes you human. It makes you feel better knowing you are not alone, that you in fact do not have to carry this heavy burden alone. It makes complete sense, Murtagh, that you would feel this way. I am sure if you were to switch places with Eragon he would feel the same way._

_I just feel horrible, though, _Murtagh murmured. _I should be happy for him, instead of resenting him! _

_You will be happy for him, _Thorn said, _once you have had time to think it over. _

Murtagh frowned but did not respond. Truth be told, he doubted he would ever be happy about this because now, once again, he felt alone.

_Murtagh, you will never be alone again! _Thorn said, reading his thoughts.

_I know, _he responded, knowing that Thorn was absolutely correct. But that didn't mean that feeling wasn't there.

_Do you really, though? _Thorn asked fervently. _I am here for you whenever you need me. I will never leave you. You are surrounded by those who love you Murtagh. Nasuada would do anything for you and, whether you think so or not, Eragon is your brother._

_I know, _Murtagh repeated, rubbing his forehead, hoping to soothe the headache that had yet to disappear. Thorn was right, though, he shouldn't dwell on what he had no choice over – his heritage was not his to decide – but instead on all that he had.

There was no denying Murtagh was a lucky man. And that was what he would concentrate on.

_Good night, Murtagh, _Thorn said, breaking through his thoughts.

_Good night, _Murtagh responded, noting that his headache had eased slightly.

And slowly but steadily, sleep came to him, temporarily erasing the events of the day.

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Eragon awoke to a loud knock on his door. He barely had time to open his eyes before the door burst open and a tall, sturdy figure marched in. Eragon blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the light, and grinned when he realized who it was.

"Roran!" Eragon said, sitting up in his bed.

"In the flesh," Roran said, beaming at him. Before Eragon could respond, Roran had him wrapped in a brotherly embrace.

"You seem to be doing well," Eragon said, laughing as they separated. He looked curiously at Roran, whose appearance had changed slightly since they had last seen each other. Roran's curly hair was cut short, but he had not completely shaven the beard he had grown on his journey to Surda with the people of Carvahall. Instead a shortly trimmed beard stood in its place, making Roran look abnormally professional, at least as far as Eragon was concerned.

"I am doing splendid, Eragon," he said, sitting up and glancing around the room. "I apologize for barging in like this; I just wanted to see my little brother." Roran grinned and patted his shoulder.

Eragon chuckled. "I'm not quite so little anymore, Roran."

"I suppose you're right," Roran said smiling, before looking at him seriously. "How are you, Eragon? I have not heard a word about you since you left."

"I am well," Eragon answered honestly. He stood up quickly, throwing a clean shirt on and heading towards the door. "Come with me," he said, motioning outside, "I have much to tell you."

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"Wow," Roran said, staring blankly at the shimmering blue sword Eragon had pulled out a few minutes ago. Eragon simply nodded.

They were sitting in a secluded part of the castle court yard, where both Saphira and Eridor had joined them, and Eragon had just filled Roran in on all the new happenings. He finished his tale by pulling out Eiltahl for his cousin to see. Roran's face, which until now had remained quite expressionless, looked suddenly amused.

"Your life, Eragon," Roran said, chuckling slightly, "well, it's quite dramatic isn't it?"

Saphira's loud snort sounded next to him, and Eragon grinned. "Yes, Roran, that is most definitely true."

"And quite complicated, too," Roran added, patting Eragon on the back.

"That is also very true," Eragon laughed. "But enough about me—how are you? Is Katrina well?"

Roran beamed at the mention of Katrina. "Katrina and I are both magnificent! We are both very happy here, as well. Nasuada and King Orrin are both treating us like royalty. They're actually treating _all_ of us from Carvahall like royalty, really. They say that we've gone through too much not to be. We're all warriors, they say. They've made sure we all had the supplies to make it here in Surda. Most of us are living in Aberon, but Horst and a few others have camped out about ten miles from here. They intend to set up a new city there— New Carvahall, they'll call it. The others and I intend to help them build it, but right now I am needed here. According to Nasuada, The Varden can't lose a soldier as valuable as Roran Stronghammer."

"Nasuada is quite right," Eragon said, grinning at Roran.

Roran laughed and shook his head. "Perhaps she is, but I am still not fully convinced." He stopped suddenly, looking rather guilty. "Katrina and I…we married only a few days after you left."

"That is great news," Eragon said, smiling sincerely. That was not surprising news. Roran grinned weakly back at him. "But why do you look so troubled?"

"I wanted you to be there," Roran said, shrugging.

"Oh," Eragon said, nodding slowly. Of course Roran would feel guilty about that. "Roran, I am so sorry I couldn't be there, but I do not want you to feel as if you needed to wait for me to come back until you married. That would be rather foolish."

Eragon grinned. "After all, you two could barely control yourselves whenever you were together. It would have been irrational to wait any longer."

Roran laughed, apparently cheered up by Eragon's words. "Ah, yes, I suppose you are right."

"Of course I am," Eragon said teasingly, patting Roran on the shoulder. "I always am."

Roran just laughed in response.

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It was hot—much hotter than normal. Beads of sweat were steadily forming on Murtagh's brow as he simply sat still on bed, looking straight ahead at the wall, unblinking.

He could feel it. _He _was coming. It always started like this—like a fever was coming upon his body, like he was being thrown into the largest of all infernos.

But suddenly the air chilled.

_Yes, _Murtagh thought, _he is coming. _

"Guards!" Murtagh yelled, standing up and running towards the door. It opened immediately and two guards stood looking at him seriously, both with the same question etched on their faces.

"You know what to do," Murtagh said.

They nodded and he nodded back. The door swung shut a second later and all was still. Murtagh sucked in his breath. It was freezing now, just like it always was before he came, and his breathing came hard and slow.

_Are you there, Thorn? _Murtagh asked quietly.

_I'll always be here._

Murtagh nodded, even though he knew Thorn could not see him.

And then he was there and Murtagh was on the ground. Murtagh threw up his defenses, a thick brick wall in his mind. Short stints of pain pierced his body, but it was bearable. In order to beat Galbatorix, Murtagh needed to ignore the pain.

No matter how many times Galbatorix tried to take him over, keeping the king away never grew easier, in fact it only grew worse. But this time something was different. Normally Murtagh could only defend his body; he could not make any move to attack Galbatorix's mind, but this time, Galbatorix's defenses were strangely low, as if he was trying to soon to take over Murtagh.

Ignoring the growing pain being continuously thrust upon his body, Murtagh stood and leaned heavily against the wall, his hands clutched in tights fists. Despite the cold, sweat was pouring down his brow. Making sure his defenses were stable, he concentrated on the face of Galbatorix and on the blackness that was trying to overwhelm his mind.

He touched something, a broken wall it appeared, and tried to thrust through it. He knew that Galbatorix's mind was being sloppily guarded and he needed to take advantage of it. He tried even harder to break through.

Suddenly an image formed in his mind. It was the face of a pale old man, with a long beard and dark blue eyes. It was Galbatorix. But something was wrong with him; he looked so exhausted and so frail. His normally full cheeks were sinking in and he had dark circles under his eyes. He was ill, obviously, severely ill.

Before Murtagh could look any longer another image sprang into his mind. Four men he did not recognize stood around a bed, kneeling at the man—Galbatorix—who occupied it. The men wore the armor of the king and looked to be talking with him, judging by their quickly moving lips, but Murtagh could not hear anything.

The image quickly faded and suddenly Murtagh was thrust from Galbatorix's mind. But instead of feeling more pain circulate throughout his body, he found that the pain had disappeared. Murtagh opened his eyes and stared incoherently at his surroundings. He was on the floor again and he was drenched in sweat. But he had prevailed.

He started to sit up, but he was still too weak. Instead he lay sprawled out on the floor, feeling weaker than he had ever felt before. Suddenly a blinding white light flashed before him and he slammed his face into the ground, shielding his eyes from the brightness.

Another image, this one so different then those he had seen of Galbatorix, appeared in his mind. It focused on the dark castle that Murtagh had once naively called home. But now there were soldiers, hundreds of thousands of them, fighting in front of the castle, while thousands more stood atop the castle wall, shooting arrows and spears downward. Although he was seeing them from an aerial view, he could tell that the soldiers atop the wall look unprepared, scared even.

In the distance he saw two dragons dive through the sky and a third, the blackest of blacks, soaring towards them, its Rider flailing his sword.

Then everything went black.

**A/N: **Oh man, it's been awhile and I am so sorry! Spring break starts next week, so hopefully I will get the next chapter up during that time. This chapter is really going to get the story moving, I think, and now I have a pretty good idea of how much longer it's going to be. To be honest guys, it's getting close to the end! Exciting, eh?

Thanks for sticking with this story everyone! And please, please, _please _remember to review! I really need the feedback.


	21. Chapter 21

The moment he entered the dungeon he knew something was wrong. Soldiers crowded the hall, all armed like they were going to war. Eragon pushed past them nervously, staring straight ahead to his destination at the end of the hall.

The door to Murtagh's cell was open, much to Eragon's surprise and he rushed towards it, only to have a sturdy looking soldier rush in front of him, preventing him from entering.

"I am sorry," he said, "but you cannot enter."

Eragon's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What happened?" he asked nervously, trying to glance past the soldier and into the room. His heart seemed to stop as he spotted Murtagh lying on the floor, Orik and a man he did not recognize standing over him. A few feet away, Nasuada looked on with worry.

"Nasuada!" Eragon called, trying to move past the soldier, but to no avail. "Nasuada, what has happened?"

Nasuada turned in surprise at his voice and rushed to the door, where the soldier turned to greet her.

"You can let him in, Kerr," she said, taking a deep breath. The soldier nodded and moved past the door, allowing him entrance. He rushed in, looking down in horror at Murtagh's limp body.

"Is he…?" Eragon couldn't even say the word; there was no way the Murtagh could be… _dead_.

"No," Nasuada replied quickly and he let out a sigh of relief. "But he is not conscious."

"What happened?" he asked again. 

It was Orik who answered. "Galbatorix tried to enter his mind again," he said, moving to Nasuada's side. 

"Is this standard procedure, then?" Eragon asked, hoping desperately that it wasn't.

"No," Nasuada answered. "With the exception of when we first captured him, it is not. In the past, he was simply extremely weak, but awake and able to recall all that happened. We have no idea what happened this time."

"The healer is tending to him," Orik said, nodding at the man who sat next to Murtagh, "and it seems he will make a recovery, but for now he needs to be under strict watch until we know what happened. For all we know, Galbatorix could have regained control over him."

"And what would happen then?" he said anxiously.

"We will cross that bridge if and when we come to it," Orik said. "For now, we must simply worry about his health."

"Whatever happened," Nasuada said, "it must be somewhat significant."

"Yes," Eragon agreed. "We can only hope that Murtagh will remember."

They remained quiet for a moment, pondering the situation. Eragon looked back at Murtagh, who lay motionless on the floor. He looked so helpless, so different than the Murtagh Eragon knew, that Eragon could not look at him for more than a few seconds. 

"Perhaps we should speak to Thorn," Nasuada said, breaking the silence. She turned to look at Eragon, a questioning look on her face. "Do you think he will know exactly what happened?"

"He should know at least a majority," he replied. "That is, if Thorn didn't somehow black out with Murtagh."

Nasuada nodded. "Eragon, will you have Saphira contact Thorn to make sure he is alright?"

"Of course," he answered.

_Saphira, _he called. It was only a few seconds before she responded.

_I am with Thorn, _she said, knowing exactly what he was going to ask of her. _He is weak, but he is conscious._

_Does he remember anything that happened? _heasked worriedly.

_He does not remember everything, _she responded, _but what he does remember should be useful. I think you should come out here and see what he has to say. He has told me little._

_Thank you, Saphira, _he said, _I will be there shortly._

"Well?" Nasuada asked, looking at him expectantly as Eragon turned to her.

"Thorn is awake," he responded to her query, "but weak. Saphira is with him and I am going to meet them outside to question him."

Nasuada nodded. "I will stay down here for the time being," she said, "but be sure to contact me when you are finished."

"Certainly," Eragon said, turning to leave. "Will you let me know when he wakes?" 

"Of course," Nasuada said, smiling weakly at him. "Good luck, Eragon."

"Thank you," he replied, smiling back at her. And with that, he left.

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Arya met him in the courtyard, where she stood anxiously with Eridor. 

"Saphira told us what happened," Arya said as he greeted them. "Is Murtagh alright?"

"I don't know," Eragon murmured, looking around for the sight of Saphira and Thorn.

"They're not here," Arya said, noticing his questioning glance. "They are a few miles away from here, in a large clearing where all the dragons have been sleeping."

_The courtyard is simply too crowded for three dragons, _Eridor added. 

Eragon nodded. "Will you take us there, Eridor?" he asked. "I need to speak with Thorn."

_Of course, _the dragon responded. _Saphira gave me instructions to do just that. She did not think it best to leave the red dragon alone. _

"Let us go, then," Eragon said, boarding Eridor, who, Eragon noted, would soon be as large as Saphira. Arya climbed up a second later, sitting behind him. Eridor leaped into the sky. Eragon held on tightly to Eridor as he dived recklessly though the sky. They were flying over a small forest that looked quite odd in the normally barren part of Surda. 

Eragon had not ridden Eridor before and he noticed a distinct difference between the way the Eridor and Saphira flew. Saphira was much more graceful, while Eridor rarely flew in a straight path; he seemed to enjoy performing tricks more than Saphira ever did. 

A few moments later, Eridor dived sharply into a space between the trees. Eragon immediately recognized the huge forms of Saphira and Thorn lounging underneath the shade of the trees. 

Eridor landed bumpily a few feet away from the other dragons. Eragon and Arya jumped off quickly and joined them under the trees. Eridor, Eragon couldn't help but notice, sat closely next to Saphira, looking at Thorn with an oddly possessive look on his face. Eragon grinned slightly at the sight.

"Thorn," he said, kneeling in front of the red dragon, who lay there looking uncharacteristically frail, "are you well?"

_As well as I can be, Rider, _he murmured, looking up from the ground where he lay slouched vulnerably.

"Do you think you can tell us what happened?" Arya said from where she stood in between Eridor and Saphira.

_I do not remember much, _Thorn responded. _But first, how is my Rider? I only know that he is being tended to be healers. What else can you tell me?_

"Nothing else, I am afraid," Eragon said apologetically. "He is in good hands, though."

_That is good, _Thorn responded, shifting slightly in his position and lifting his head from the ground. Eragon waited patiently for him to say more. 

_All I remember, _Thorn began, _is a quick onset of images. I do not know how Murtagh was able to see them, but I believe that he was able to break through Galbatorix's barrier and was able to catch of glimpse of what was in Galbatorix's mind._

"What did he see?" Eragon asked anxiously.

_He saw the face of Galbatorix. He was frail—sickly looking—and weaker than I have ever seen him. But as I said, I could only catch a glimpse. The next image was of Galbatorix in a bed, surrounded by men—soldiers or assassins, I think. He once again looked extremely weak. They were talking about something, but I could not hear anything. I think he was giving them orders, though._

Thorn paused and Eragon took in the information. If what Murtagh had seen was true, then Galbatorix was very sick. 

_There was one other image, _Thorn continued, _but this one was different and I cannot remember any of it. I do not think, though, that it was from the mind of Galbatorix. _

"Why do you think that?" Eragon asked.

_It came a few minutes after the first images, _Thorn responded, _and it was after Murtagh had been able to prevent Galbatorix from regaining control of his mind._

"So Galbatorix was not successful in his attempt?" Eragon asked, relieved.

_No, _Thorn said. _In fact, I think this was his most pitiful attempt yet. Galbatorix was much too weak to be able to fight Murtagh and that is why Murtagh was able to break through the king's barrier._

"I still don't understand, though," Arya said and Eragon turned to look at her, "why Murtagh saw another image _after_ he had beaten Galbatorix."

_Nor do I, _Thorn replied, laying his head back on the ground. _But I do not think what he saw was simply an image. It was a vision of some sort. Of what, I do not remember, but it must have been important. I am afraid you shall have to wait for Murtagh to wake to find out._

"That is interesting…" Eragon murmured, staring curiously at Thorn. "It seems to me that the first two images, coming from Galbatorix himself, are of the past. But since this last image, a vision perhaps, occurred separately from Galbatorix, I am willing to bet that it is much different than the first two images—perhaps of an event that has yet to happen." 

_That is plausible,_ Saphira said. _After all, Eragon has had visions before._

"Yes," Eragon said softly, "and some have, unfortunately, come true."

"I think you have drawn conclusions too quickly," Arya said. "You know too little of the third image to say that it is a vision of the future."

Eragon nodded, glancing at her. "You are right. But still, I have a feeling that it is something along those lines."

He turned to look at Thorn. "You saw nothing else?" Eragon asked.

_I am afraid not,_ he responded. 

"Thank you for sharing all of the information you did have," Eragon said, standing, "I truly do appreciate it."

_It was no problem, Eragon. _

"We should be getting back," Eragon said. "Nasuada wanted to know what we found out as soon as possible. Do you know if Murtagh is awake yet, Thorn?"

_He still sleeps, _Thorn murmured.

Eragon nodded. "That is to be expected." 

He turned to Saphira. _Will you be coming with us?_

_I will stay with Thorn, little one, _she responded. 

_Be sure to let me know if Thorn remembers anything else, _Eragon said, patting her snout.

_I will, _Saphira said.

He turned to Arya and Eridor. "Let us head back to the castle, then. Nasuada is most likely anxious to hear what Thorn had to say."

They agreed and soon were back in the air, flying towards Aberon.

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"I wonder what this all means…" Nasuada said, sighing as she lay back in her chair.

They were sitting in Nasuada's study, gathered around her desk, and Eragon had just finished sharing the information Thorn had given them. Arya sat next to him, looking preoccupied, while Orik and King Orrin sat to Eragon's left. 

"If we take these images or visions, whatever they are, to be true," Orrin spoke, "then it means that Galbatorix is extremely weak and vulnerable. I think we need to take advantage of this."

"I agree," Orik said, nodding. "Galbatorix is probably unaware that we know he is so weak. We could take him by surprise."

"But then there is the possibility," Arya said, looking up at them seriously, "that he planted those images in Murtagh's mind in order for us to _think_ that he is weak, when in all actuality, he is at his strongest."

"That is most definitely possible," Orik responded.

"I don't think so," Eragon said firmly. "I suppose that it would not be unlike Galbatorix to do something like that, but I think that Galbatorix's strength is dwindling. He is not as powerful as he used to be and the fact that he can't seem to regain power over Murtagh confirms that. No, I think that what Murtagh saw is the true state of Galbatorix."

"Nevertheless," Nasuada said, "I think we have waited too long to respond to this. I told you yesterday, Eragon, that we should wait to attack until we know for sure that Galbatorix is not well. But now I believe we do know that this is true and I think we need to make a move. What do you say, Orrin?" She turned to look at the king.

"I think you are right, Nasuada," he said quietly. 

"Should we start gathering troops for battle?" Orik asked.

"Yes," Nasuada said, "I think we should."

Orik nodded and stood. "I will get right on it. I will also inform my people of the coming battle. They will want to fight."

"That would be excellent," Nasuada replied. "We need as many people as we can get."

"I will send word to the elves," Arya said and Nasuada looked at her in surprise.

"Your people want to help us?" she asked.

"The Queen wishes to send her support this time," Arya murmured. "She has been wary to have the elves get involved in this war, but she now believes that our help is quite necessary."

"It is," Nasuada said sincerely, "and we truly do appreciate any help your people can."

"We will need to make a plan," Orrin said, standing up. "But I suggest we wait until we can meet with my council and the council of The Varden."

"I agree," Nasuada said, standing up as well.

"The final battle is fast approaching," Eragon muttered.

Nasuada nodded grimly. "And soon the victor of this war will be made known. I can only hope that that victor will be us."

**A/N: **Quick update, compared to last time, anyway. Actually, this would've been up sooner, except I got distracted by a Harry Potter fic I just started writing (which will probably never even make its way to the internet, but who knows). Anyway, that fic took up most of my time and it's now almost done, so I decided to focus on this one. Hopefully I'll update this one again soon, since I've got two weeks of spring break coming up. 

Thanks for all the reviews everyone! I really appreciate. Keep them coming (remember, they help me write faster!).


	22. Chapter 22

Arya walked down the long hall towards the armory. The day had been a long one and she had not managed to rest for quite some time. It was already deep into the night and she doubted she would be getting any rest tonight.

Murtagh had not woken from his episode earlier that morning, or rather yesterday morning. The sun had long since set and would soon be making its presence known again in a very short amount of time. Still, Murtagh was not yet awake and so no one knew for sure what had happened.

That didn't stop Nasuada, however. In the hours since the incident, Nasuada had managed to send word to the dwarves about the upcoming battle and also managed to start gathering a small army out of hundreds Surdan men, with many more to join them in a few a days. Arya had sent a letter to her mother immediately after their meeting with Nasuada by way of a dove, the swiftest mode of transportation at the time. She could only hope that the elves would make it in time.

Nasuada had put Eragon and Roran in charge of meeting the Urgals and Kull, whose alliance with The Varden was sorely needed, to discuss the battle. They had left early in the afternoon and had yet to return. This worried Arya slightly, but Eridor had kept in contact with Saphira, who had assured them both that everything was going just fine.

"There you are, Arya," Nasuada said as Arya entered the crowded armory. Scores of men—young and old— were packed into the large room, making it hard for Arya move around. Nasuada was at the entrance navigating the men to specific areas, while Jörmundur stood next to her, scribbling on a large piece of parchment.

"You are quite busy, I see," Arya said, glancing around the room. It was rather chaotic, actually, and Arya was too keen on joining in on it.

"Yes," Nasuada said with a sigh, "we need to gather as many men as possible."

"Is there any news on Murtagh?" Arya asked.

"None yet, I'm afraid," Nasuada said grimly and Arya couldn't help but notice how tired she sounded.

"Nasuada," Arya started gently, "perhaps you should get some rest. You haven't had time to even sit down for almost twenty-four hours."

"I know," Nasuada said, shaking her head wearily, "but I just want to make sure everything is ready for when we set out to Urû'baen."

Arya sighed. Since the moment she, Eragon, Orik, and Orrin had left Nasuada's office yesterday things had been chaotic. Nasuada and Orrin had met with their own councils and all agreed that it was indeed time to prepare for battle—the _final_ battle, perhaps—despite the fact that they had yet to speak with Murtagh about the final detail of his vision. Arya thought it seemed bit too fast for them to be thinking so far ahead, but Nasuada and Orrin had both decided that in only two days time they would start their long trek to the king's city, Urû'baen.

"Still," Arya pushed, "I think you should sleep. You don't think Murtagh would want you to exhaust yourself to death, do you?"

Nasuada narrowed her eyes, but a second later let out a reluctant smile. "No, I daresay he would not. But then, Eragon wouldn't want you to do so either."

Arya laughed lightly, something she felt like she hadn't done in years. "Ah, but you forget I am an elf and elves do not need sleep. I am perfectly fine."

"Well," Nasuada said, chuckling, "then can you explain why you looked so dazed when you walked in here a moment ago?"

"I was merely deep in thought," Arya said, shrugging.

"At any rate," Nasuada replied, "I suppose you are right. It wouldn't do me any good to over-exert myself." Nasuada motioned towards the door and Arya followed her.

"Have you heard anything from Eragon and Roran?" Nasuada asked as they walked slowly down the dark halls.

"Saphira tells us that they are well," Arya said quietly, trying to hide her frustration, "but I do not know anything else."

"They have been gone longer than I anticipated," Nasuada said and this did nothing to soothe Arya's nerves. "Perhaps it would have been better if you joined him."

"Perhaps…"

"But if Saphira says they are fine, then I am sure they are," Nasuada said, trying to point out the positive aspects.

Arya didn't have time to respond; a tall man had appeared breathlessly in front of them. Thy both looked at him curiously as he caught his breath.

"My Lady," he said finally, "I have been looking all over for you. They had said you were in the armory but—,"

"What is wrong?" Arya asked impatiently, glancing at Nasuada, who looked suddenly stiff—anxious.

"Oh," he said apologetically, pausing as he noticed her. He stared at her sheepishly for a moment before looking back at Nasuada. "I was sent to inform you that the Dragon Rider has awoken."

"Is he alright?" Nasuada asked, her voice quivering.

"Yes," the man responded, smiling at her encouragingly. "In fact he is very well. He wishes to speak with you."

Nasuada nodded, composing herself. "Thank you for your service," she said to the man. He bowed and then turned to walk away.

"Well," Nasuada said, turning to Arya, "I suppose we will have to fill Eragon in when he gets back. Come, we must see Murtagh immediately."

Nasuada started walking, but Arya remained where she was. "Wouldn't you rather see him alone?" she asked, confused.

"I will later," Nasuada said, stopping and waiting for Arya to join her. "But for now, I think it is best we discuss his visions. I fear I would get too distracted if I went alone."

Arya did not argue with this and so they both headed down to the dungeon.

When they entered his room a few moments later, Murtagh was sitting up on his bed, his eyes closed. Nasuada rushed over to him and, noticing her arrival, he welcomed her into his arms.

"How are you?" Nasuada asked, as Arya stood off to the side. She felt strange intruding on such a private moment.

"I am better than I thought I would be," Murtagh said, chuckling. He moved his face towards hers and placed a light kiss on her lips. Arya, who felt like it would be best for her to come another time, had turned to leave, when Nasuada called out her name.

"Arya," she said, "please come join us."

Arya stepped cautiously forwards. Murtagh smiled at her presence but she didn't miss the confusion on his face when he noticed that Eragon was not by her side.

"He is meeting with the Urgals," Arya said, answering his unasked question.

"The Urgals?" he asked, perplexed. "What business does he have with them?"

"The Urgals fought for us at the Battle of the Burning Plains," Nasuada answered. "We will need them again very soon."

"We are to be fighting again soon?" Murtagh questioned.

Nasuada nodded. "Thorn was able to share some of your visions with us. We now know how weak Galbatorix is. We need to take action immediately."

"So Thorn was able to tell you what I saw?" Murtagh pondered. He paused, deep in thought.

"Well," Arya began, "he was able to tell us most of your visions. He does not remember the last one."

"The last one," Murtagh murmured, rubbing the stubble on his face absently. "Yes, the last one was the most important I believe."

"Thorn said that he didn't think the last one was from Galbatorix's mind," Arya said.

"Nor do I," Murtagh said, shaking his head.

"Can you tell us what you saw?" Nasuada asked gently.

Murtagh was silent for a moment, closing his eyes in concentration. It was a few moments later when he finally spoke.

"I saw a castle. I'd recognize it anywhere; it was the castle in Urû'baen—Galbatorix's home. And I was flying, so I was seeing it from the sky. There were thousands of soldiers everywhere…fighting, killing… Then I saw a black dragon— Shruikan —with his Rider, Galbatorix, flying over the castle. That is all I remember."

"Perhaps it is a vision of the battle yet to come," Arya said, after a few moments of silence.

"That would make sense considering…" Nasuada murmured.

"Tell me," Murtagh said, "what are the plans for battle?"

"We march in two days to Urû'baen," Nasuada answered simply.

"Two days?" Murtagh said in surprise. "That is so soon. I will not have much time to recover."

"What are you talking about, Murtagh?" Nasuada said, looking at him strangely. "You cannot possibly come with us."

"How can I _not_ come with you?" Murtagh said, his voice rising. "It is my duty as a Rider to fight for my people. I haven't had that chance yet, Nasuada, and I intend to take this opportunity to do so."

"Do you think you are stable enough?" Arya asked, hoping he would not be offended by the question.

"After this last attack," Murtagh said quietly, "I am convinced that Galbatorix shall never again enter my mind."

"But, Murtagh," Nasuada pleaded, "what if he _is_ able to, what will we do then? You will be roaming freely doing his bidding, albeit against your will, but still, we would have to…"

"Kill me," Murtagh stated. "But that's a risk we shall have to take. You risk death in any war. This is no different. Nasuada, I must come. I _need_ to come." He paused. "I remember one more thing about my vision, or whatever it was. The soldiers _inside_ the castle looked to be losing. Those were Galbatorix's men, I am sure of it. If this truly was a vision, then at some point in the battle, we will be winning. And since I saw myself there, then that must mean I am helping you to win."

"Yes, but at what point are we winning?" Arya murmured.

"I do not know," Murtagh said, "but I would most definitely like to find out."

"I just don't know if it is a good idea," Nasuada said firmly.

"I say let him go," Arya spoke up. Nasuada looked at her in surprise. "We _need_ him, Nasuada."

"Thank you, Arya," Murtagh said quietly.

"I suppose…" Nasuada muttered. She looked at him fiercely. "I just want you to be safe."

"I know," Murtagh said, grinning lightly. "But quite frankly, these days that is impossible."

_Arya._

Eridor's strong voice filled her mind.

_Eridor, _Arya said in surprise. _Do you have any news?_

_Roran, Eragon and Saphira are back, _he said simply.

_Are they alright?_ she asked anxiously.

_They are fine, _Eridor said and Arya could hear him chuckling lightly in her mind. _They bring back good news. They have just arrived in the courtyard._

_Good, _Arya said. _Will you tell Saphira I am on my way to meet them?_

_Of course._

"Arya, is something wrong?" Nasuada asked, noticed how she had spaced out.

"Eragon is back," she said quickly. "With good news, apparently."

"Wonderful!" Nasuada said, smiling widely. "We shall go see him immediately."

Arya rushed to the door and waited for Nasuada to join her. Nasuada placed a kiss on Murtagh's brow and followed Arya.

"Would you care very much if I joined you?"

Both Arya and Nasuada turned in shock at Murtagh's question.

"Join us?" Nasuada said in confusion. "But, Murtagh, you're ill!"

"I might as well get used to the outside world since we'll be leaving in two days," he replied simply. "And I feel better than ever actually." To prove his point, he jumped quickly out of bed and smiled widely.

Nasuada didn't look quite convinced, but she had no reason to say no.

"We'll have to keep a close eye on you," she said as she took his arm and led him to the door.

"Of course," he said, beaming at her. Arya opened the door and nodded to the soldiers who guarded it.

"He'll be coming with us," she told them, as she and Nasuada led Murtagh outside. The soldiers looked surprised but didn't say anything as they let them pass.

Nasuada walked arm and arm with Murtagh and Arya walked a few feet ahead of them. They soon were back in the main hall. The sun had just started to rise and small rays of light shone through the huge open windows. Murtagh smiled at the sight of it.

"I haven't seen the sun in who knows how long," he laughed. "I had forgotten how beautiful it was."

Nasuada smiled sweetly at him as they walked slowly towards the courtyard. Arya spotted Eragon as soon as they reached it. He was waiting with Roran on a bench on the almost completely empty courtyard. Saphira was no where in sight and Arya assumed she had gone to rest with the other dragons. He was talking quietly with Roran and Arya could tell he was though the way he held his body that he was extremely exhausted. Nevertheless, the moment he sensed their presence, he leaped up and rushed over to them, Roran right behind him.

His eyes widened as he noticed Murtagh standing there with Nasuada, but he sought out Arya first. He surprised her by pulling her into a fierce hug.

"What is wrong?" Arya asked in confusion, as she returned the hug gently.

"We had quite a day," Roran answered wearily.

She pulled away quickly and regarded him anxiously.

"What happened?" she asked.

"The Urgals did not welcome us as we anticipated," Eragon said quietly. He looked over to Murtagh and beamed, changing the subject before anyone could respond. "I am happy to see you out and about," Eragon said, smiling and moving over to his brother, all the while holding tightly onto Arya's hand.

"It feels wonderful," Murtagh said. "But tell us what happened? I am quite curious to hear your tale."

"Oh," Eragon said sighing, "the Urgals were not expecting us. They did not know it was me, so their leader, Nar Garzhvog, had his men ambush us. I almost ended up with a spear in my heart and both Roran and I had our fair share of injuries."

"Nothing Eragon couldn't heal without a bit of magic," Roran added at their worried looks.

"They quickly figured out it was us, though," Eragon continued. "Needless to say, they felt quite bad about it and, after a long talk with Nar Garzhvog, they are happy to fight with us. They will meet us on the northern outskirts of Aberon tomorrow afternoon with a large horde. Of how many, though, I do not know for sure."

"I am happy that you all made it out safely," Nasuada said, "but I feel so horrible for sending only you three out to meet with them. I knew I should have sent more back up."

"It honestly would not have done much," Eragon responded. "We made it out safely, that is all that matters."

"You could have been killed, though," Arya said quietly. "I wish you'd have let me come."

"I am perfectly fine, Arya," Eragon said, smiling encouragingly down at her. "Really, I am."

Arya nodded slowly, grinning weakly at him, but she could not help but feel anxious. They all made their way back into the castle. Roran headed quickly off to see Katrina. Nasuada mentioned that they should all rest for a few hours and so she walked back with Murtagh to dungeons.

"I doubt I'll be able to sleep when there is so much to do," Eragon said as he and Arya entered his room.

Arya sat on his bed quietly and lay down. She had a lot on her mind. The final battle was approaching quickly and she only now just realized what a price she might have to pay. Eragon's scare with the Urgals reminded her of his poisoning months earlier, and that reminded her that he most definitely still mortal, despite his title as a Dragon Rider. It was extremely possible that she might lose him in this battle and that was something she knew she could not handle.

"Is something wrong?" he asked as he lay down next to her.

"No," she lied. She was afraid that saying her fear out loud would make it happen and that was something she could not risk. If she ever lost him, she knew she wouldn't be able to live.

"Are you sure?" he said, staring at her curiously. He gently wrapped his arms around her.

"Yes," she lied again and she kissed him quickly in order to silence his interrogation. Sure enough, he did not mention it again for the rest of the night.

**A/N: **Hope you all like this chapter. Next chapter things should start moving along.

Remember to review!! And thank to everyone who has!


	23. Chapter 23

"The day has finally arrived," Murtagh murmured as he stood next to his dragon, Thorn. "We are finally leaving."

Eragon glanced over at his brother from his position atop Saphira and smiled. "Yes, my brother, today we march to Urû'baen."

In between Saphira and Thorn stood Eridor and atop him sat Arya. The three dragons lined up in front of the thousands of soldiers who would be joining them on their trek to Urû'baen. It must of have been quite a sight, Eragon noted, for the soldiers who stood behind them. The three dragons looked almost like ancient statues as they stood majestically, looking over the barren plains they would be traveling across. Eragon looked behind him and, sure enough, many of the soldiers looked on in awe at the sight of the three dragons.

"Murtagh," Nasuada said, coming up from behind them, "we are all ready to leave. You'd best come with me."

Murtagh sighed but took her welcoming hand as she led him a few feet away to a large black horse. He would not be riding with Thorn on the journey to Urû'baen; Nasuada wanted to keep an eye on him as much as possible and insisted on traveling with him. Murtagh had wearily pointed out that she could ride with him and Thorn, but she looked appalled at the idea. She was no flyer or so she had said. Still, Eragon knew that Murtagh would be able to convince her to ride with him within the coming days.

Eragon turned to Arya, who was sitting quietly on top of her dragon and glancing at the army of Urgals behind her. They stood off to the side of the men; both of the groups were still not entirely fond of each other and despite the fact that they would soon be fighting together, they preferred to keep their distance. Nar Garzhvog, however, stood comfortably next to Nasuada, who had now mounted her chestnut horse. King Orrin and Orik stood next to the head Urgal, looking up at the dragons with a look of awe, mixed with pride. The dwarves, who had arrived only hours before, mixed in with the men, but it was easy to spot the short fellows amongst the humans.

Not to Eragon's surprise, Angela had also decided to join them, and stood behind Nasuada and the others, with Solembum sitting indifferently at her side. A few feet behind her, Eragon spotted a large group of his people from Carvahall. Roran and Horst stood together, along with Albriech and Baldor and a dozen or so others.

From his position, Eragon could see the whole army. It was quiet a sight. Gathered all together, there looked to be an army of at least thirty-five thousand men, Urgals, and dwarves combined. Eragon had been surprised to gather so many men in so little time, but people were eager to fight, even after the Battle of the Burning Plains. However, he knew that their fate in this battle depended on the arrival of the elves, and they also hoped to gather a few more thousand men as they traveled.

The huge crowd of soldiers was overwhelming now that Eragon got a good look. In fact, the lines of men seemed to go on for miles.

"Are we ready?" he called to Nasuada and the others.

"Fly on," she responded, "but make sure to stay out of sight and keep us alert of any dangers that may lie ahead."

"Of course," Eragon said.

_Shall we go? _he asked Saphira.

_We shall._

And with that she rose majestically into the air, Eridor and Thorn at her heels, and they were off. Eragon looked down at the seemingly endless group of soldiers below them. They had started to march, but compared to the speed of Saphira, they were barely moving.

_We are in for a long trip, _Saphira said, diving daringly as she soared through the cloudless sky.

_Yes, _Eragon agreed, _we most definitely are._

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Two days later, they were camping about five miles north of the Surdan border— they were finally back in Alagaësia. If they hadn't been traveling with the army, he and Saphira, along with Thorn, Arya and Eridor, would most likely already be in Urû'baen. Eragon had to admit that his patience for the seemingly slow traveling army was growing shorter, but he knew that they were going as fast as they could. At they rate they were going, though, it would be another three days before they reached the outskirts of Urû'baen.

Eragon sat around a small fire located outside Arya and his tent and stared blankly at the dying flames. It was a cool, but comfortable night, and Eragon was content to simply rest here, admiring the star-filled sky. Arya sat next to him, leaning lightly against him, her eyes closed. She looked to be asleep, but Eragon knew better.

"Eragon, Arya!" a voice called out behind him. He turned to see Roran striding over to meet him, followed by Horst and Baldor.

Smiling at his cousin, he stood to greet them. Arya, surprised at the sudden movement, also stood and looked around inquisitively . Eragon smiled in apology and placed an arm around her waist. She looked at him with irritation and he loosened his grip, but did not let go entirely.

"Roran," Eragon smiling at them as they neared, "Horst, Baldor, I was wondering where you had gotten to. I haven't seen you since we left."

"Most of us have camped a few tents down from Nasuada," Roran said, "but we only just got set up."

"You all must be exhausted," Eragon said, looking at their tired forms.

"Aye," Horst said, "we barely slept an hour last night. Lady Nasuada is working us hard."

"It is worth it, though," Roran said, smiling at them as he played with the handle of his hammer. His eyes moved to the sleeping form of Saphira, who was huddled with Eridor and Thorn a few feet away in a small open area. "What I'd give to travel the likes of Saphira again," he muttered.

"I can arrange that," Eragon said chuckling. "But I daresay it's much more interesting down here than up there; all we ever seem to do is fly in circles."

Roran winced. "Flying in circles is a thousand times better than sitting on the filthy back of a slow-moving horse for hours on end, all the while having an endless sum of dust flung in your face."

"So," Eragon said, laughing lightly, "how has the traveling been going, then?"

Horst laughed. "I believe Roran has just explained to gist of it."

Eragon grinned and glanced at Baldor who, he noticed for the first time, kept giving Arya odd looks. He couldn't help but smile at the look Baldor wore—a look of astonishment mixed with lust—because he used to look at Arya the same way when he first met her. The beauty of an elf was overwhelming for any man and Baldor was no exception. Still, Eragon's grip on her waist tightened slightly; he didn't want Baldor to get any ideas.

"Anyway," Roran said, yawning widely, "we just wanted to stop by and see how you were faring. I feel like I could drop at any second, so I am off to bed. But, Eragon, if you were serious about that offer, I will certainly take you on it."

"Alright, then," Eragon said, "meet me here at dawn and we shall get ready to take off once again."

They said their goodnights and soon Eragon and Arya were inside their tent, taking advantage of the few remaining hours of rest that were offered to them. He lazily pulled of his shirt and threw it carelessly onto the ground before practically falling onto his bed mat. Arya sat down smoothly next to him and smiled playfully at him.

"Your friend," she said, placing a hand on his bare chest, "I have not met him yet. Who is he?"

Eragon gazed at her curiously. "Do you mean Baldor? He is one of Horst's sons and an old friend. He and his brother, Albriech, used to hunt with me and Roran quite often. Why do you ask?"

"You became quite possessive when you noticed the way he looked at me."

Eragon sat up quickly and narrowed his eyes. "I do not like it when other men look at you that way," he said simply but firmly.

Arya raised an eyebrow. "I am an elf, Eragon; your kind have looked at me that way long before you came along. And in case you haven't noticed, many women look at you the same way."

"They do not," he said, furrowing his brow in confusion. He had never noticed women looking at him in _that_ way before.

"Oh, they do," she said, "you are just too oblivious to notice."

"That is because I take no notice of any woman but you," he defended smiling weakly at her.

Arya shook her head, smiling lightly, but said nothing. Instead, she simply brought a hand up to his face and lightly brushed his cheek. He took her hand and kissed it gently, letting his lips linger on the back of her palm.

"Arya," he said quietly, "something has been bothering you these past few days."

She sighed heavily and pulled her hand down and into her lap. "You know me too well."

He grinned and took both of her hands in his. "You do not have to tell me if you do not want to, but please know that I am always here for you."

"I know. I am just…anxious about this battle," she said quietly, her hands playing idly with his fingers.

"That is to be expected," he said gently.

"I know…" she sighed. "But I never used to worry about battles…about fighting, or worrying about getting myself killed. I still do not worry about myself, though, it is _you_ I worry about."

"Arya," he said in surprise, "you needn't worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can," she said quietly, "but ever since you were nearly killed by that poison, I was reminded of how…delicate…you humans are and I just can't help but worry. If I ever lost you, Eragon…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"You will not loose me," Eragon said, cupping her face in his hands.

"You cannot promise that," Arya replied, letting her face fall into his hands. He quickly pulled her into his embrace.

"I know I can't," he said, "but I _can_ tell you that I will be doing everything in my power to stay alive, just as I know you will."

She nodded and slowly pulled away. "And I suppose that is all I can ask of you."

He smiled grimly. "It is all I can do."

She stared sullenly down at their intertwined hands and sighed.

"But let's not think of this right now," Eragon said quickly, smiling down at her. "It is the calm before the storm; we should enjoy it and use it to our advantage."

Before she could respond, his lips were on hers and he pulled her down with him as he fell backwards onto the ground. She grinned against his lips as she lay on top of him and he ran one hands through her raven hair, as the other ran slowly back and forth over her back.

"I suppose," Arya said as she pulled away slightly, "that is a good idea."

"Of course it is," Eragon said grinning. He kissed her again lightly.

"I love you," she murmured against his lips. Her warm breath blew gently against his skin and her body was pressed temptingly against his bare chest.

"I love you more than words can describe," he sighed.

His lips met hers once again and all of their worries were forgotten for one wonderful night.

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Morning found them wrapped in each other's arms, a small blanket covering them both as they slumbered peacefully. A loud voice outside of their tent roused Eragon from his sleep.

"Eragon," it said, and he knew immediately that the voice belonged to Roran, "are you up? It is dawn and the others are now stripping down camp. Nasuada says we should be ready to go in less than an hour."

Eragon sat up groggily and reached for his trousers and shirt. "Just a moment," he said quickly. Arya stood quickly and threw on his clothes faster than he knew to be possible. She smiled sheepishly at him and motioned for him to continue dressing.

A few moments later they exited the tent together. Roran was waiting outside for them, making sure the last of their fire was extinguished. He smiled at them both as he noticed them appear and soon their tent was dismantled and packed. Nasuada appeared with Murtagh a few seconds later.

"Hello, everyone," Murtagh said cheerfully.

"Murtagh," Eragon nodded. He was too tired to say much; he hadn't had much time to sleep last night, although he didn't regret the reason why.

"Is something wrong, Nasuada?" Arya asked as she moved next to Eragon's side. One look at Nasuada, who looked extremely agitated, told Eragon something was indeed wrong.

"I will be flying with Murtagh today," she said shortly.

Murtagh sniggered. "Don't sound so angry about it, Nasuada! You had nothing against it last night."

Nasuada blushed in embarrassment which quickly turned to annoyance. "You tricked me into giving in."

"That sounds like a lovely tale," Arya said before Murtagh could respond, "but we'll need to get going if we want to make good time."

"Arya is right," Murtagh said, leading a scowling Nasuada towards Thorn. He beamed back at them as he went. "I will see you in the sky!"

Eragon grinned back at him before turning to Roran and Arya.

"Let us go, then," he said.

Roran stared eagerly at Saphira as they approached her and soon, after a bit of chaos on Nasuada's part, all three dragons were back in the sky inching closer and closer to their final destination.

**A/N**: Hope you all enjoyed this. I think it's a nice little romantic chapter. Sorry if anyone's a little OOC. This chapter was just like Eragon said, "the calm before the storm." Things are going to be pretty serious from here on out.

So, I made a basic outline for the remaining chapters basically writing down some notes about what's going to happen next and it looks like there is going to be a total of about 29 chapters (_maybe_ 30, but I doubt it). That's basically five more chapters. Sad, I know, but my goal was to have it done before the third book comes out and it looks like that's going to happen. As for a sequel, I have a few ideas, but I don't know if that'll happen.

Anyway, thanks for reading and remember to review!


	24. Chapter 24

Three long days later and they were camped about ten miles away from Urû'baen. Here they would stay until they received word from the elves. Currently, those in charge of the Rebel army—Nasuada, Orrin, Orik, and Nar Garzhvog—were meeting in Nasuada tent, discussing the plans for battle. Eragon, Arya, and Murtagh also joined the meeting, their status as Riders important to the strategy of the battle.

"We'll need to surround all possible sides of the city," Arya said, pointing to the large map that sat on the table in front of them.

"I agree," Nasuada said, "but we must try our hardest not to harm the innocent civilians."

"We will try, Nasuada," Orrin said, "but I do not think it will be possible for every innocent soul to come out alive."

"I would not worry about the people too much," Murtagh said from his position next to Nasuada. "Over the years, most have been corrupted by his power and those who weren't fled the city. Now, other than his many soldiers, few civilians are left."

"I suppose that is good news, then," Nasuada murmured.

"My Lady…" The head of a tall soldier poked through the tent door.

"Come in, William. What is it?"

"A dove has just arrived from the elves," William said, and in his hand Eragon saw a small piece of rolled up parchment.

Nasuada took it quickly and handed it silently to Arya. Eragon, who stood next to her, waited for Arya to unfold it before glancing quickly at the letter. From what he saw, it didn't seem to contain much.

She scanned it quickly and then read aloud:

**_To our ambassador, Arya, and the leader of The Varden, Nasuada:_**

**_We have received your request for soldiers and will respond immediately. We have gathered a group of five-hundred elves to march down to Urû'baen. I realize that this may be a small amount compared to normal human standards, but the power of the elves should not be underestimated. I send only the best._**

**_Our troops will march to Urû'baen as soon as possible and I estimate that by the time you receive this letter we will be camped fifteen miles north of the city. Look for us there and contact us as soon as you can._**

**_Good luck and warmest regards,_**

**_Islanzadi, Queen of Ellesméra_**

"Shall we head out to look for them?" Eragon asked as Arya handed the letter to Nasuada to reread.

"Yes," Nasuada said after a few moments. She turned quickly to Arya. "If it is possible, I would very much like to join you. I have yet to meet your Queen and I believe if we are to be proper allies, it is about time we do so."

"I think that is a wise idea," Arya said. "Islanzadi will most definitely want to meet you."

"Let us go, then," Eragon said, standing up. "Time is of the essence."

"Would you like me to come?" Murtagh asked quietly as he, Eragon, Arya and Nasuada left the tent.

Arya looked down to the ground uncomfortably. "I do not think now is the right time," she responded.

Murtagh nodded slowly, remaining silent.

"It is not you she would have a problem with," Arya said quickly, "but rather you father. She counted Morzan amongst her biggest enemies."

"I did not know that," Murtagh said and his mouth turned into a bitter smile. "But then again I should not be surprised."

"She simply needs time to prepare herself to meet you," Arya said reassuringly. "It has taken her a long time to recover from the pain he caused her and her family. But I believe that she will be happy to meet you whenever that time comes."

Murtagh smiled weakly, but nodded. "I should let you three be off, then." He winked at Nasuada. "Have fun on the dragons."

Nasuada rolled her eyes. "I will. We will see you again shortly."

With that, Eragon and Arya led Nasuada to the three dragons.

"You will ride with me," Arya said. "I don't think you are quite ready to ride by yourself yet."

"You are probably right," Nasuada said chuckling. Arya slowly helped her onto Eridor and Eragon quickly jumped atop Saphira.

"Argetlam!" a high-pitched voice called to him just as he boarded Saphira. Eragon turned in the direction of the voice. Before he could even discern who it was, he felt a large grumble of disapproval coming from Saphira.

He finally spotted her, rushing towards them in an unladylike fashion. Eragon stifled a groan as he realized who it was.

"Hello, Trianna," he said quietly from atop Saphira.

"Eragon," she said, beaming as she saw him, "how wonderful it is to see you! I have been searching all over this wretched place trying to find you. It seems we are destined to be as far away from each other as possible."

And thank heavens for that, Saphira muttered. Eragon coughed quickly, trying to hide his laughter.

"What can I help you with?" Eragon asked, smiling lightly.

"Well," she said, turning suddenly business-like, "I was hoping to speak with you concerning the matters of the upcoming battle. We worked so well together last time don't you think?"

Eragon raised an eyebrow. He had distinctly remembered Trianna being extremely agitated about handing over her power of the Du Vrangr Gata to him during the Battle of the Burning Plains. Nevertheless, they had worked well together and, now that she had taken her place as leader once again, she seemed perfectly fine.

"Yes," he responded, "I suppose we did."

"I was hoping you would consider—,"

"Trianna," Nasuada's stern voice interrupted her and she looked in surprise at Nasuada, who sat behind Arya on top of Eridor. "I told you earlier that you can discuss this with him later."

"But this is later, Lady Nasuada," Trianna said sweetly.

Nasuada narrowed her eyes. "Can you not see we are busy? You can speak with him when we return."

"But, Nasuada," Trianna responded and Eragon could hear the venom behind her sweet voice, "you have said yourself that the Du Vrangr Gata are essential in the defeat of Galbatorix. We have waited much too long to discuss our plans with Eragon. Can you not spare an hour?"

"No," Nasuada said, the look of annoyance on her face abundantly clear, "we cannot. We will return soon and then you may speak with him. Arya," she said turning to the elf before Trianna can respond, who looked clearly amused, "let us proceed."

Eridor leaped into the air quickly and Saphira followed, leaving an agitated Trianna on the ground.

_What an aggravating creature!_ Saphira said as she ascended through the sky.

Eragon laughed. _Yes, she can be quite annoying. But she is very useful to The Varden, you cannot deny that._

Saphira snorted. _I very much wish we could._

_What elves do you think are there?_ he asked her, changing the subject.

_I do not know,_ Saphira responded. _I am curious to find out._

They flew straight into the east, trying to fly as far away from Urû'baen as possible. Soon, they strayed northward, towards the city. It was only a short while later before they saw a small dark speck that Eragon could only assume was the city itself.

_Fly a bit more to the east,_ Eragon told both Eridor and Saphira. _We cannot risk being seen, especially if Shruikan is wandering throughout the sky._

Saphira and Eridor veered to the left. The sky was cloudy and dark and it looked like rain would be coming soon. This worked to their advantage, though, as it would be harder to be seen in these conditions.

A half hour later, it had still not rained, and Saphira began to make her descent. A few moments after that Eragon spotted a large camp situated on the northern bank of the Ramr River.

_There they are,_ Eragon said, pointing down towards the river. Saphira and the dragons veered swiftly downward, allowing Eragon to get a better view of the camp. He was shocked at what he saw.

Lounging by the river was a large golden figure. From far away, people would mistake it as a huge boulder, but Eragon knew immediately that the figure was none other than the venerable dragon Glaedr.

_Glaedr and Oromis are here!_ Saphira cried, noticing her teacher immediately.

_I cannot believe it…_ Eragon muttered incredulously. He had never thought that Oromis and Glaedr would accompany the elves into battle. There was simply no way that they were in shape to fight. Despite the fact that Oromis was an expert swordsman and Glaedr was skilled in the sky, their health had been steadily deteriorating and they were no where near as strong as they used to be.

He looked over to Arya and she, too, looked flummoxed. They were nearing the ground now and Nasuada also noticed the appearance of the golden dragon. Her shocked expression was obvious from the moment she laid eyes on him.

And then they were on the ground and a crowd of young elves were surrounding them. As he sat on top of Saphira, he noted a few familiar faces, but for the most part these elves were new to him. It was easy to decipher the elves from Ellesméra, who were used to the two dragons, from those from other cities, who looked on in awe at the sight in front of them. Eragon glanced over at Nasuada, who was staring wide-eyed at the elves.

He jumped quickly off of Saphira, putting his hand to his lips in greeting and smiling widely. He heard loud murmurs of the traditional elven greetings.

"Now, now, give our friends some space," a familiar voice said, silencing the crowd. The youthful elves looked respectfully at the figure to whom the voice belonged.

Through the crowd walked Oromis, proud and tall, smiling lightly at Eragon as he made his way to them. He walked with the assistance of a cane, making Eragon worry slightly, but otherwise seemed quite well.

"Oromis," Eragon said in astonishment his teacher reached him, "I did not expect to see you here."

"It is my duty as a Rider," Oromis said, still smiling. "Surely you know that."

"I do know," Eragon said quietly, "I just did not think you were well enough…"

Oromis chuckled. "Glaedr and I are ready for anything that comes our way, I can promise you that. Now," he said, turning to Nasuada, "you must be Nasuada, leader of The Varden. I have heard much about you."

Nasuada smiled widely, gaining her composure. "It is an honor to meet you," she said kindly. "You have done well in training your pupils."

"Thank you," he said, smiling sincerely.

"Oromis," Arya said quickly, "where is the Queen?"

"She is in her tent waiting for you to come join her," he said. "I am to lead you to her." With his cane, he pointed through the crowd to the large circle of tents. "If you will follow me."

He led them past the river bank, where Saphira and Eridor joined Glaedr, and toward the tents. As Eragon glanced around the camp, he couldn't help but think that it looked more like a tent city than a simple camp. The huge white tents rose high above the ground, stretching to a width comparable that of a small house. There was about fifteen tents in all, all forming a large circle, where many elves congregated around a host of campfires. It was quite extravagant compared to the huge, cluttered camp of The Varden, which was made up of hundreds and hundreds of small tents.

Oromis led them to the tent located at the opposite side of camp. It was slightly larger than the other tents, but otherwise looked quite normal. A familiar figure stood in front of the tent door with two other regal looking elves.

"Welcome, Shur'tugals," Vanir said, bowing at the sight of them. The other two elves did the same and stared curiously at Nasuada. Vanir quickly pulled open the flap, allowing them entrance.

Eragon entered slowly and glanced quickly at his surroundings. The tent reminded him faintly of the court in Tialdari Hall back in Ellesméra, most likely because of the large throne-like chair that sat on a small raised podium at the far end of the tent. On both sides of the throne were two other chairs and, in the middle of the room, sat a large rounded table, with numerous chairs placed around it. Little else occupied the room.

Islanzadi sat proudly before them, her mouth twisted into a pleased smile as they stood before her.

"I am so pleased that you made it here safely," she said, rising to meet them. She walked quickly to Arya, smiling slightly, and pulling her into an awkward embrace.

"I had worried that with such a large army you would surely be spotted by the Empire," the Queen said, releasing her daughter.

"We made it without incident, Mother," Arya said, touching Islanzadi's shoulder in reassurance.

Eragon looked quickly over at Nasuada, who looked in surprise at Arya; she had had no idea that Arya was in fact daughter of the elven Queen.

"That is good news," Islanzadi said, and she turned quickly to Nasuada. "I am honored, Lady Nasuada, to finally make your acquaintance. It has been too long since I have kept in contact with the Varden, but I assure you, you have my full loyalty."

"Thank you, Queen Islanzadi," Nasuada said, bowing slightly, "your words are of great comfort."

"Shall we get down to business?" Arya asked, walking briskly over to the table and sitting on a stool.

Islanzadi laughed. "You are always in such a hurry, my daughter," she said, sitting next to her. "Wouldn't you rather enjoy some refreshments first?"

Eragon sat on the other side of an agitated Arya, while Nasuada sat next to him and Oromis took his place across the table.

"Mother," Arya said, matter-of-factly, "we have no time for refreshments."

"I think we can manage a few drinks while we talk, don't you?" Islanzadi said, still smiling. Despite the nature of their meeting, Eragon was surprised at how carefree the Queen appeared. "I suppose, if you insist, it can wait until later."

Arya did not argue, but instead stared in annoyance at the table.

"Oromis," Islanzadi said, "would you please call in Generals Daylor and Garrik? They should be here for this."

"Of course," Oromis responded, standing and leaving the tent, only to return a second later. A few moments after that, two tall elves arrived. The first, an older wise-looking elf with long silver hair, smiled kindly at them all as he entered. The second, a youthful elf with light blonde hair that fell lightly to his shoulders, came right behind him. He smiled boldly at all of them and appraised Arya with hungry eyes.

Next to him, Eragon heard Arya stifle a groan. He turned to her curiously, about to ask her if she was alright, when the blonde-haired elf began to speak.

"Princess Arya," he said, bowing dramatically, "it has been much too long since our last meeting!"

Arya nodded dully. "Garrik," she said, staring at him in forced cordiality, "I did not know you had been promoted to general."

"Alas!" he responded. "My father could not join us on this exciting journey and so he sent me in his place. The elves need a proper representation from Silthrim, after all."

"Yes," Arya said, smiling weakly, "of course we do."

Eragon was beyond curious at Arya's apparent hostility towards Garrik and the odd look of amusement on Islanzadi's face did nothing to soothe that curiosity.

"My Princess," Garrik said, sweeping over to her and taking her hand, forcing her to turn from the table and towards him, "we simply must catch up after out meeting. It has been decades since we last spoke. I fear much has been left unsaid since then."

Arya smiled sweetly, masking her annoyance in the flattering gesture, but when she spoke, her voice was slightly strained. "If we have the time, Garrik, then we shall talk."

He kissed her hand lightly. "We shall simply have to make time, then, won't we?"

Eragon raised an eyebrow, watching all this with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. Arya was struggling to keep her composure as she nodded, smiling stiffly at the strange elf.

"Take a seat, if you will, General Garrik." Islanzadi interrupted. Arya threw her a grateful look.

Garrik regretfully let go of Arya's hand and moved across the table, next to Daylor.

Eragon turned his attention to the elder elf, who was examining him appraisingly. They greeted each other in the typical elven greeting and then Daylor stood.

"Eragon—if I may call you that—," he said, his voice stern, but not unkind, "I have waited so long to meet you. It truly is an honor." He turned quickly to Nasuada and smiled broadly. "It is an honor to meet you, as well, Lady Nasuada. I come as a representation of Osilon and I would like you to know that you have our firm support."

"Thank you, General," Nasuada murmured kindly.

It appeared that Garrik had just noticed Eragon, for the elf rose from his chair and bowed swiftly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Shur'tugal" he said quickly, smiling pleasantly.

"I am honored to meet you both," Eragon said, nodding at both of the elves.

"I believe it is time we begin our meeting," Islanzadi said and they all turned to the Queen. "What is the plan?"

Arya stood and pulled out the large map of Uru'baen that Murtagh had created, rolling it out on the table. The map consisted of a fairly accurate sketch of Galbatorix's castle and the land surrounding it.

"We will surround the whole city," Arya said simply. "We can leave no spot unguarded. None of his army can escape."

"Do they have any suspicion of our approach?" Daylor asked.

"We do not think so," Nasuada answered, "but it is always a possibility."

"You say Galbatorix is ill," Islanzadi murmured. "Do you think he will fight?"

"Galbatorix is a coward," Oromis growled, "I would not be surprised if he fled the city as soon as one of his minions spotted us."

"I think he will be there," Eragon said firmly. "He wants to end this once and for all, just like we do."

"Yes," Arya murmured, "I agree. One thing remains certain—only one side can prevail and that means, ultimately, if Galbatorix lives, we die."

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It would be a few hours later before their meeting would let out and, when it did, Eragon was rather tired. He wanted to speak with Oromis, but he knew that the older elf was even more tired than he was.

"I will see you in two days time," Oromis murmured as they strolled out of the tent.

"In two days we fight," Eragon said, shaking his head. "It is hard to believe."

Oromis nodded. "It is interesting to think that, a week from today, everything will have changed—hopefully in our favor, I might add." He chuckled lightly and touched Eragon's shoulder gently.

"I must rest," he said, patting Eragon's shoulder in goodbye. "I shall see you in two days."

Eragon smiled and bid his master goodbye. He then made his way to a harassed-looking Arya, who was being bombarded with questions by Garrik. Nasuada and Islanzadi were quietly discussing something a few feet away, so Eragon decided to see if he could rescue Arya.

"It is getting dark," he said as he joined them. He placed his hand lightly on the small of Arya's back.

"Yes," Arya said, smiling at him in thankfulness as he joined them, "we must head back to our camp."

"That is most unfortunate," Garrik said, narrowing his eyes, almost as if he didn't believe her. "I would have loved to speak with you in private, Arya. Eragon," he said, turning to him, "did Arya ever tell you that she and I have known each other since we were both children? I suppose you could say we have quite the past."

"How interesting," Eragon said, smiling politely.

"It is, isn't it?" the elf responded smoothly, and Eragon spied a bit of arrogance hiding behind his voice. "Arya, perhaps you should stay with us until battle. I daresay, your assistance here is quite needed."

"I am afraid I am needed elsewhere," Arya answered firmly.

Eragon grinned slightly. "Yes, Arya is an asset to The Varden. I am afraid we'd fall apart without her."

The elf's mouth twisted into a half-smile and he nodded slowly, regarding Eragon with an odd look. A moment later he turned swiftly back to Arya. "Perhaps I will stop by your camp tomorrow and we can have a proper conversation."

"I would not waste your energy on such a trip," Arya responded quickly. "Save your strength for battle."

Garrik laughed loudly. "Nonsense, I will have plenty of energy. Do you forget that I am an elf?"

When Arya did not respond, the young elf stood tall and nodded stiffly at Eragon, before bowing before Arya. "I leave you here, then. And I shall see you tomorrow, Arya."

He turned dramatically and walked swiftly away, disappearing into a nearby tent. Arya stood stiffly next to Eragon, her fists clenched tightly together and her mouth set in a firm line.

Eragon couldn't help but laugh. "So you and Garrik have quite the past?"

Arya scowled. "I do not like to talk about it," she said quietly.

"He seems like a nice fellow," Eragon said, smirking slightly.

"He is a demon," Arya said, keeping her voice steady, but glaring at the tent Garrik had entered.

Eragon chuckled. "Really, he cannot be that horrible. He must have changed over the years."

"He hasn't changed a bit," Arya said. "He is exactly the same as I left him."

"Garrik had quite the crush on Arya when they were children," Islanzadi said, as she appeared at Arya's side, Nasuada next to her.

"I'd have never guessed," Eragon said, suppressing his urge to laugh.

Grimacing, Arya turned suddenly towards the river. "I do not wish to discuss this any further. Let us go."

"Very well," Islanzadi said, sensing Arya's increasing annoyance, and deciding to let the topic drop. She walked with them towards the dragons.

"I shall see you in two days, then," the Queen said, smiling somberly at them as they reached the dragons.

"Yes…two days," Eragon said, taking a deep breath, and moments later they were in the sky once again.

**A/N:** I actually think this is the longest chapter yet, so yay for that! I love long chapters…Anyway, the final battle (Part 1, I think, because I'm mostly likely doing two chapters of the battle) is the next chapter, so look out for it. Only a few more chapters left and then this story is done!

By the way, I started writing a new Eragon/Arya story a few weeks ago and let me just say it has a rather...interesting...premise. I may or may not post it sometime soon, but I've had the idea of this story in my head for a very long time now. As in like two years. And I finally decided to put it on paper. It should be good, and for you hardcore Eragon/Arya fans, the story focusing mainly on them instead of the whole war thing. So, look out for that story!

Remember to review!! And thanks for reading!


	25. Chapter 25

Eragon rummaged hastily through his pack, making sure he had everything he needed and then threw it carelessly against the wall of the tent. He stood still for a moment, beads of sweat already forming underneath his armor from the slightly humid weather, and glanced down at his sapphire sword, which sat in its sheath at Eragon's side. This would be the first time he used it in battle and he hoped that it would serve him well.

Two days had passed since they had met with the elves and today they would fight.

As he stood there, the weight of his armor suddenly seemed heavier than usual, like he would not be able to bear it in battle. But then Eragon realized that he had used the armor numerous times and it had not failed him yet. He was worried, though. Today was the beginning of the end and he hoped that tomorrow would bring a brand new beginning.

"Eragon." Arya's head appeared the flap of the tent and Eragon turned to look at her. "It is time," she said seriously.

He nodded and put a hand on the grip of his sword. She entered the tent for a moment, and took his hands in hers.

"Are you worried?" she asked as they rested their foreheads against each other.

"Yes," he answered honestly.

"As am I."

"You?" he said teasingly, wiping a stray hair away from her face. "Worried? That is certainly unusual."

Arya grinned slightly, but said nothing in reply. Instead she gently kissed him, her lips resting simply against his for one last moment of peace.

"Let us go," she murmured and slowly they pulled away. He sighed, bringing one of her hands up to his lips and gently kissing it, before nodding. Paying his small, messy tent one last glance he let her lead him out of the tent.

Crowds of soldiers were making their way through camp, trying to evade the scores of small tents that littered the ground. Many wore heavy suits of armor, clinging to their bulky swords as they trudged through camp. Some, however, wore only a simple breast plate and helmet, carrying a large shield and a small dull-looking blade. Eragon looked at these men with a frown; it was inevitable that they would not have enough armor for all the men, especially with the number of soldiers that were fighting, but he still wished that they could've mustered a bit more for them all.

Arya gripped his arm and pulled him swiftly though the crowd. He fell slightly behind her, slipping through the crowd of soldiers. She moved swiftly and stealthily through the throng and he struggled to keep up. Her thin but protective elven armor covered her body and her raven hair was pinned up in a tight bun. Her long sword sat firmly in its sheath on one side of her body and a small dagger sat on her other.

Despite all of her protection, Eragon couldn't help but worry about her. He knew that she was a magnificent warrior, even more so than him, but he still knew that there was always a chance she wouldn't make it off of the battlefield. He shook his head wearily, trying to push those uncomforting thoughts out of his mind.

A few minutes later, they reached Nasuada, Murtagh, and Orik at the head of the camp. Saphira, Eridor, and Thorn all stood a few feet away, staring at the impending army of elves coming there way with interest. Eragon walked quickly over to Saphira, placing a hand on her neck. She purred gently in response and he smiled lightly back at her. Slowly, she raised her eyes to the sky and Eragon looked up curiously. A huge golden dragon flew majestically directly above them and dived sharply to the ground. The crowds of people looked on in wonder as Glaedr landed gracefully in front of the other dragons.

"Amazing," said a voice next to Eragon and he turned to find Roran shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe it. Four dragons altogether… How can we lose?"

Eragon smiled and pat his cousin on the back. "We can't, can we?"

"There's just no way," Roran said, grinning ear to ear and putting an arm around his shoulders. "Four dragons to one—the odds are against that slimeball of a king!"

Eragon laughed, suddenly feeling very encouraged by Roran's words. He glanced quickly over at Murtagh, who was staring at Oromis with both amazement and respect. He turned back to his cousin and motioned over towards Oromis and Glaedr.

"Come," he said, "I'll introduce you."

Roran smiled even wider and clutched his hammer tightly. "Thank you, Eragon. It will be an honor to meet him."

"Ebrithil," Eragon said as he reached his master and Glaedr.

"Eragon," Oromis said, smiling weakly. "Ready for battle, I see."

"Of course," Eragon replied with a grin.

"Ah, Lady Nasuada, it is truly wonderful to see you again," Oromis said as Nasuada appeared suddenly at his side.

"It is wonderful to see you as well, Master Oromis," she responded, shaking his hand in a professional manner.

"Ebrithil," Eragon said, and he turned to Roran who stood awkwardly next to him, "I would like to introduce you to my cousin, Roran Stronghammer."

"Roran," Oromis said, smiling warmly at the young man, "it is an honor to meet you."

"And it is an honor to meet you as well, sir," he responded quietly.

"And this," Eragon said, turning quickly to Murtagh, "is my brother and fellow Rider, Murtagh, Rider of Thorn."

Oromis turned slowly to face Murtagh and observed him quietly for a moment. Murtagh stood there in slight discomfort as he glanced unsurely between Oromis and Eragon.

"Murtagh," he said, putting a hand to his lips in traditional elven greetings and smiling sincerely, "I am so happy to finally meet you."

"Thank you," Murtagh murmured, smiling widely at the elf. "I am honored to be in your presence."

Out of the corner of his eye, Eragon noticed Arya heading towards the oncoming elves. He nodded to Oromis and followed her.

Islanzadi stood tall and proud, her hand on the pommel of her sleek, long sword and covered in the same elven armor Arya wore. It was an odd sight for Eragon, who was used to seeing the Queen in her long traditional dresses, but the resemblance she bore to Arya was magnetized tenfold as she stood ready for battle. Daylor stood on one side of her wearing an unreadable expression and Garrik stood on her other side, smiling appraisingly at Arya, who fitfully ignored him.

"Are you ready?" Islanzadi asked as Eragon, Oromis and Nasuada joined them.

"I believe so," Nasuada said, staring ahead at the large elven army that stood before them.

"Line the front," Islanzadi called back in the Ancient Language to the army behind her. Quickly the elven soldiers filed past them and lined up in neat rows in front of the Varden soldiers.

"That should do it," Islanzadi murmured, examining the army that stood waiting behind her. "Now we march."

But as Eragon began to board Saphira, Islanzadi's attention zoomed onto Murtagh, who stood quietly next to Thorn, his hand resting on the red dragon's side. Her eyes narrowed, knowing that she was looking at the son of her mate's killer, and she took a deep uneven breath, showing a vulnerability that Eragon had never seen in her before. It remained silent for a few awkward moments before her lips twitched into a small smile.

"You look nothing like him."

Murtagh inhaled sharply, his eyes meeting hers, and he spoke quietly, "I had hoped you would think that."

Her smile was sincere as she put her hands to her lips. "I am pleased to finally meet you, Murtagh, and your dragon, as well. Eragon and Arya have both told me much about you."

Murtagh grinned. "Good things I hope."

"Only good," Islanzadi replied, chuckling lightly.

"In that case, thank you, Your Majesty. It is with both humility and honor that I stand before you."

"And I say the same to you."

Murtagh took a deep breath, obviously taken aback by her words and bowed slowly. "Thank you," was all he said.

"Well, then," Nasuada said, smiling apologetically as she broke the moment, "I believe it is time to go. Trianna," she said, turning to the pretty sorceress who had appeared next to her, "are the others ready?"

"Yes, My Lady," she said, eyeing the elves in awe. "They line the back and sides of the army, just as you asked."

"Good," Nasuada replied, "then we are ready to leave."

Islanzadi nodded quickly to Daylor and the regal elf lifted a small horn to his lips and blew. At the sound of the horn the elves began their march, the other soldiers following behind them.

And then Eragon was strapped tightly into the saddle on top of Saphira and they were flying. Swiftly they circled the army below them, each flap of Saphira's wings bringing them closer to their destination.

_This is it_, he said to Saphira. _The final march—the final battle. _

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Dark clouds surrounded the castle and, even though it was barely noon, gave the gloomy city a twilight effect. The dragons had been flying over the clouds, trying to stay out of sight as much as they could, but Eridor had quickly slipped through them for a moment to observe the city directly below them. Arya shook slightly from the cold water that had come from the clouds, but her armor protected her from getting drenched.

_It looks like it is going to rain_, Arya remarked to Eridor, not knowing what else to say. It was odd to think that in only a few minutes they would be in battle. They awaited only the go ahead of her mother's voice and then they would strike the large city below them

_Yes, it certainly does. _

_Do you think you are ready, Eridor?_ she asked, making out barely any of the city just before Eridor dove back up through the cloud.

_I do not know_, he murmured. _This armor is quite amazing, though, so I am sure that I will be alright._

Arya broke into a grin; ever since Eridor had first donned the special dragon armor earlier that morning he had not been able to stop talking about it.

_Yes,_ she chuckled,_ that armor will protect you from anything and every—_

Suddenly, her mother's smooth voice entered her mind.

_Go now_, was all she said.

_It's time to go, Eridor_, Arya said, turning very serious.

And with a deep growl Eridor dove through the clouds. Next to them, Saphira, Thorn, and Glaedr dove with equal speed and soon they were flying directly above the city.

_Murtagh,_ Oromis' voice filled all of their minds,_ take the east of the city and stay as far away as possible. Arya you take the north, Eragon you take the west, and I shall take the south_

The four dragons both veered towards their respective positions, forming a circle around the dark city of Uru'baen.

Arya narrowed her eyes in surprise at the sight below them.

Hundreds and hundreds of Empire soldiers stood a top of the castle walls, waiting with their swords and spears and arrows for their enemy to arrive. Outside of the castle, thousands of soldiers stood in front of the main gate at the southern part of the city and inside the city, thousands more awaited them.

_So they were expecting us,_ Arya murmured.

_This changes nothing_, Oromis said. _Follow the plan and keep to the sky. _

_There are a very limited amount of Empire soldiers protecting the eastern gates_, _just as expected_, Murtagh informed them.

_Their mistake_, Eragon said,_ and our gain. The western gates are heavily guarded, though._

_As are the northern gates_, Arya replied. _But not nearly as much as the south._

Arya turned in the saddle to look behind her. The black mass that was the Varden army stood solemnly about two hundred yards from the head of the Empire army. The two armies faced each other, as still as stone, waiting for the first move to be made. In front of her, she spotted a small, almost unnoticeable group of Varden soldiers nearing the eastern gate. Her mouth twisted into a smile—they could easily impenetrate the city from there.

Huge catapults separated the Empire army into two parts and a great number of ballistas lined the castle walls, waiting to strike the oncoming dragons. When it came to weapons, the Empire had always had the advantage, but Arya did not worry about it too much—they had the power of three great dragons and ancient magic on their side, all of which had yet to fail them.

A loud horn sounded below them, but it was not that of Daylor. In the blink of an eye, a huge wooden ball was hurled from one of the catapults towards the Varden army. It landed with a horrifying crash, inevitably striking down a few of the Varden soldiers.

Daylor's horn blew and the Varden army surged forward to meet their enemies.

It had begun.

**A/N: **Cliffhangers suck. ;D

**_Important Anouncment: _**Thanks to jackbyang7 for pointing out that I should probably enable my story for anonymous reviews. I don't know why I never did, I guess I never noticed that it was disabled. So all you anonymous readers can now review!!

I'm so sorry about the wait! Real life got to me…. But school's over now and I have the whole summer to write. I said I'd finish this story before _Brisingr_ comes out and now I'm sure I will. And I know I said that the battle would begin this chapter, and it technically does, but unfortunately you'll have to wait another chapter for the real action to begin.

Thanks so much for reading and please, please, _pretty please _remember to review!!


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Just a heads up: there's a lot of different point of views in this chapter, but I don't think it'll be too confusing. **

Thorn dove towards the castle wall, heaving a mighty roar as he tore through the line of soldiers, leaving a wake of astonished men in his wake. Murtagh gripped Zar'roc tightly and lifted his sword into air, motioning for Thorn to move back. The red dragon flipped backwards and soared back towards the eastern wall. Volleys of arrows flew towards them, but Thorn evaded them with ease.

_Take them out_, Murtagh ordered._ Every single one of them._

Thorn growled in response and surged towards them men. A gigantic wave of fire escaped his mouth and fell upon the hopeless soldiers like a waterfall. Cries of agony were the immediate response to the fire and, although Murtagh felt slight pity towards them, he knew that this was for the best. This was, after all, war.

A gentle rain had begun to fall, but it was not enough to douse the great fire that Thorn had set upon the men. Many of the soldiers leapt off the great wall, eager to dispose of their agony or perhaps to take the easy way out before Thorn could reach them again. Across the city, Murtagh could spot several identical fires and, although he could barely make out the other dragons in the distance, he knew that they were all fighting similar battles.

With another roar, Thorn lunged back towards the wall where hundreds of flailing soldiers remained helplessly. He effortlessly tore through the men, picking some up with his razor-like teeth and flinging them off of the castle onto the ground hundreds of feet below, until only a few scarce soldiers remained.

_Let me take them_, Murtagh said grimly.

And so Thorn tilted slightly to the side as he swept once again over the top of the wall, and soon Zar'roc met the necks of those few unlucky soldiers.

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_Trianna, have you been able to locate any of Galbatorix's magicians?_

_Only a few, Argetlam, and they have been successfully taken care of. _

Eragon sighed in relief. _Good. That must mean we got rid of most of them at the Burning Plains. Report back to me if you find any others._

_Of course, Argetlam. _

Saphira was circling around the castle now as he glanced down at the dark battlefield below them. The sapphire dragon had successfully disposed of a good number of Empire soldiers on top of the castle walls, but new soldiers continued to appear as back up. They shot myriads of arrows towards him and Saphira, but she was able to dodge each and every one.

_Still no sign of Galbatorix_, Saphira said as she dove towards the ground.

_And I doubt that he will appear any time soon_, Eragon replied. _He will probably want to wait until the very last minute. _

A thunderous explosion sounded behind them and Eragon twisted around in his saddle to get a good view. The catapults were flinging huge boulders towards Saphira, but none could ever make it to them. However, the affect of the weapon was still great; Varden warriors were falling left and right.

_We need to destroy the catapults_, he said to Saphira.

_Yes_, she agreed. _If this keeps going on then we will lose all of our men before nightfall. _

She turned around effortlessly and headed back towards the castle, all the while evading the huge boulders being sent their way. Eragon clung tightly onto her as she twisted and dove in all directions.

_Saphira, look out!_

A huge boulder came thundering their way and Saphira lunged sharply downwards. But it was too late—the boulder had hit a large section of her right wing. Saphira roared in response, but she kept on moving. Eragon twisted in his saddle to get a good look at the wound. The membrane was torn slightly, but surprisingly the rock had done little damage. He effortlessly healed the torn part of the wing.

_Are you all right?_ he asked anxiously.

_I am, thanks to you._

They had reached the catapults by now and Saphira let out another loud roar as she let out a heavy spew of fire over the catapults below them. She rose back into the air again before diving back down and taking two of the huge weapons with her claws, ripping them apart.

_Good job, Saphira_, Eragon said, grinning at the accomplishment. _Now we've only a few more to go._

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Arya clung on tightly to Eridor as he swerved through the crowded battlefield. It was hard for the dragon to know just who to take out and who not to, since the armies blended together so well. However, the Varden had much more diversity when it came to their army; elves, dwarves, Urgals, and humans mixed together made it much easier to know who _not_ to kill.

Eridor flew towards a small crowd of warriors, two of which sat upon proud horses and others who stood in a large circle defending those on the horses. Nasuada was one of the horseback riders, with Orrin next to her on a midnight black horse. Orik, along with a small group of a mixture of dwarves, elves, and Urgals, stood as a sort of shield around them.

"Nasuada!" Arya called down to her as Eridor hovered over them. "The northern walls have been taken care of."

"That is good news!" Nasuada called back up. She sat proudly upon her chestnut steed, sword in hand. "We need all the help we can get down here."

Clusters of Empire soldiers continuously made their way towards the circle of Varden soldiers, but the miniature army took them out before they could so much as lift a sword.

Eridor turned towards the oncoming army with fury and let out an irritated growl as he swept towards them. His iron-like jaws tore at the soldiers as he flung them with ease to the side. With a roar, he released a small flume of fire, but it did little damage. He let out another roar, this one tinged with obvious frustration.

_Eridor_, Arya cried out as Eridor leapt sharply towards the darkening sky in annoyance, _you are still young. Now is not the time to worry about how much fire you can or cannot produce! _

_Maybe so_, he growled, _but I would be of much more use if I could breathe fire like Saphira or Thorn. _

_Please do not worry about it now, Eridor_, she said trying to stay as calm as possible. _You are doing wonderfully, you really are._

_If you say so_, he said in defeat. He continued to climb up into the sky for a few more moments, observing the battlefield. Arya quickly spotted Saphira disposing of the few remaining catapults and a few seconds later saw Thorn circling the castle. Closest to her, though, was Glaedr, who slashed through the army directly below them relentlessly, breathing out a torrent of fire as he went. The golden dragon did it so smoothly and so flawlessly, that Arya couldn't help but smile in amazement.

_Is that your mother over there below Glaedr?_

Arya's eyes followed Eridor's gaze where, only a few feet away from Glaedr, Islanzadi stood fighting, along with Daylor, Garrik, and numerous Varden soldiers, elves and humans alike. They were being bombarded by Empire soldiers, but Glaedr appeared to be holding them off quite effectively. Arya quickly spotted a small group of rogue soldiers coming up behind her mothers group and Eridor swiftly flew towards them, taking them all out with a blow of both his claws and teeth.

_Nicely done_, Arya murmured.

_That felt good_, was all Eridor said in reply.

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_Look!_ Saphira cried suddenly, after the last catapult was taken care of.

Eragon quickly spotted what Saphira was talking about. Roran, along with Horst and many others from Carvahall were surrounded by a huge group of Empire soldiers, with even more coming their way. Saphira was already headed towards them. There were hundred of men surrounding Roran's group and Eragon knew they couldn't hold up much longer.

"Eragon!" his cousin called up to him. Roran sounded desperate but, even though his face was clearly bleeding, he swung his hammer with enthusiasm.

_Saphira, leave me here!_ Eragon said, thinking quickly, as Saphira neared the ground. _There's too many of soldiers for them to take. You take the oncoming ones and then return for me._

_Are you sure?_

_It's the only way._

_I hate leaving you, Eragon_, she said anxiously.

_I know, but we must._

With that he leapt out of the saddle onto the ground only a few feet below him. With Eiltahl in hand, Eragon made his way through the Empire soldiers, striking them down effortlessly as he made his way towards Roran.

"Are you alright?" Eragon cried, getting a good look at his cousin when he finally reached him. A long slash mixed with dried blood covered his face.

Roran just laughed. "They caught me when I wasn't looking but I am perfectly well, brother!"

As if to prove his point, Roran swung his hammer and knocked down an oncoming opponent with one blow. Eragon chuckled lightly and joined in the fight.

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_This is getting very irritating_, Murtagh growled as Thorn continuously circled the sky. Every now and then, the red dragon would dive towards the battlefield and take out a few Empire soldiers, but for the most part he stuck to the sky.

_I know, but we must follow Oromis' orders. We must stay out of the way and keep a look out for Galbatorix._

Murtagh sighed in frustration. So far there had been no sign of the pitiful king or his back dragon and he found himself feeling increasingly useless.

_Whenever he finally decided to let his presence be known_, Murtagh argued, _it will not be done silently. You and I keeping watch for him is quite pointless. _

_Perhaps_, Thorn agreed, _but we must follow orders. _

Murtagh gave up arguing, knowing Thorn was right. Although most of the Varden trusted him completely, he knew that there were still some who did not and neglecting his orders would not help to gain the trust that he needed.

To distract himself, Murtagh gazed down at the battlefield. It was hard to discern which side was which, but it was clear that the Varden was not outnumbered like they had been at the Burning Plains. In fact, if Murtagh guessed correctly, it looked like the Varden just might be winning. He wasn't completely certain, but it seemed a fair guess. And if they were winning, that meant Galbatorix would certainly be making an appearance sometime soon, at lease if his vision had been correct.

To his left he saw Eridor diving in and out of the crowd and to his right he saw Saphira tearing at a large group of Empire soldiers. Behind him, he knew that Glaedr was keeping a close watch on Islanzadi and the other elves.

And then suddenly he saw it. A huge black dragon leaped into the air from somewhere in the castle, a huge ball of fire erupting from the creature's mouth.

And, atop of the dragon, wielding a long glimmering sword, sat Galbatorix.

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_He is here!_ Murtagh's loud voice sounded in her mind.

Arya's face turned automatically towards the sky. Sure enough, a huge black dragon had joined the other four dragons in the sky. Even from so far away it was easy to see that Shruikan rivaled the ancient Glaedr in size. Shruikan dove sharply towards the ground with infinite speed, releasing a huge burst of fire upon the army below them. Then, with just as much momentum, he lunged straight back up into the air and rocketed towards Thorn, who in turn flew towards Saphira.

_He's heading for you, Thorn!_ Eridor warned the elder dragon.

A deafening roar sounded across the battlefield and it took only a moment for Arya to realize that it was Thorn.

_Let him come! _the red dragon cried. _The time has come for us to end this once and for all!_

Without hesitation, Eridor swept towards Saphira and Thorn. Shruikan was faster, however, and reached them both with a sickening thud. The three dragons immersed in a bloody battle in the sky, with Thorn latched onto the back of the black dragon and Saphira attempting to grab hold of his neck.

But Shruikan was stronger than they thought possible.

Arya watched in awe as the black dragon flung them both off him with a simple roar and dove towards the ground. Eridor automatically followed Shruikan, but Arya protested.

_No!_ _You are not strong enough, Eridor! You saw what he just did to Saphira and Thorn._

But Eridor could not reply. In a single motion, Glaedr had emerged from behind them and burst into Shruikan, knocking him to the ground with a thunderous bang.

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Eragon watched helplessly as the two dragons battled relentlessly below them. He could easily make out both Riders clinging to their dragons, but none made any move to dismount.

The battle between the Varden and Empire soldiers was at a standstill. Instead they all watched the passionate dragon battle in front of them. The rain that had been pouring earlier had ceased and the setting sun illuminated a brilliant red sky.

_We must go to their aide!_ Eragon called out to the others.

Saphira dove towards them with fervor and attempted to join the battle but, to her surprise, Glaedr cast her quickly to the side.

Eragon's eyes widened in shock.

_They don't want us to fight! _he said in disbelief.

_They can't possibly expect us not to_, Arya's frustrated voice filled his mind. _That would be suicide._

Eragon watched in horror as the two dragon battled it out, an array of gold and black twisted together in an inexhaustible battle. Their battle took place in both the air and on the ground, but currently they were on the ground, tearing at each other menacingly.

_It is a battle to the death_, Saphira said grimly. _They will not stop fighting until the other falls. _

But before Eragon could respond, one of the Riders had jumped off their dragon and onto the ground. He narrowed his eyes to make out the figure—it was Oromis. He stood tall and proud, his sword in his hands, and awaited the arrival of his foe. A second later, Galbatorix had joined him on the ground.

The dragon stopped their brawl. The two stood face to face, swords drawn and pointed at the other.

All was silent.

**A/N: **Part I of the epic battle is now complete! Part II should be up pretty soon, hopefully! I hope you guys weren't too disappointed with this chapter. As I've said before, I'm not great with writing action scenes. Anyway, thanks for reading and please remember to review!


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

_All was silent_.

Saphira landed with a thud onto the ground and Eragon leapt off without hesitation. Galbatorix and Oromis remained motionless, staring each other down. Oromis stood tall, with no sign of weakness, and glared at the king. Galbatorix's mouth was twisted into an arrogant smile as he looked at the elf in interest, as if he couldn't believe that anyone would dare challenge him.

Despite Galbatorix's apparent confidence, he looked quite sickly. He was skinnier than Eragon ever imagined and underneath his helmet sat long gray hair. This, along with his long tangled beard, made him look slightly like a mad Wildman.

But Eragon knew that despite his appearance, Galbatorix was a force to be reckoned with and he knew that it was not a wise idea for Oromis, who was sicker than he appeared, to challenge him. That is why Eragon found himself walking swiftly towards the two, ready to intervene.

"Oromis," Eragon began, coming up behind his teacher. Oromis lifted a hand in protest.

"Aw, so this is the great Shadeslayer I have heard so much about!"

Galbatorix's voice took him by surprise. He had expected a deep booming voice full of anger, but the voice that left the mouth of his foe was much gentler and slightly higher-pitched than he had imagined.

"I must say you are much…younger than I pictured," Galbatorix went on. The king moved slowly towards him and he clenched his jaw in raw hatred, clutching tightly onto Eiltahl. "I _knew_ you were young but, quite frankly, I didn't think you were such a…_boy_."

Eragon couldn't help it—he laughed. "Galbatorix, if your strategy is to intimidate me by poking fun at my youth then you are not going to get too far. It is actually quite pathetic."

A loud chuckle escaped Galbatorix's lips. "Oh, do not fret, my boy, I have much more planned for you." His eyes narrowed as he looked past Eragon. "And you must be the _other_ Rider." His voice crackled in annoyance and Eragon knew that Arya was standing behind himself.

"You've been quite a nuisance, you know," Galbatorix said, eyeing Arya wearily. "No matter, though, you should be taken care of in a few minutes."

"You sound so sure of yourself," Eragon scoffed. "But I wouldn't be so confident if I were you."

"You say that, boy," Galbatorix said, a wry smile painting his lips, "but you have no idea of the power I contain. Then again I'm sure your _brother_ has told you a bit about it, hasn't he? Where is that coward, by the way? I see he doesn't want to join you down here to aid you in your fight."

A menacing laugh tore through the crowd.

"You're all talk and no action, _your highness_," Murtagh spat as he appeared behind Galbatorix.

"Am I?" Galbatorix said, smiling sadistically as he turned to greet Murtagh. "Hmm, perhaps you are right. Why don't we begin the battle then?"

"That is what I have been waiting for," Oromis said, speaking for the first time since he landed.

Galbatorix laughed. "Yes, I'm sure you have." He turned slowly to Oromis, glowering at him. "Since you seem so eager to fight, elf, perhaps you shall be the first that I destroy."

Without a word Oromis lifted his blade, ready to fight.

"Oromis," Eragon said, moving in front of him. "This is not your battle to fight."

"It is, though, Eragon," he said quietly. "It is everyone's here. Galbatorix has destroyed the lives of so many. Not one person here has not lost somebody close to them because of that pathetic excuse for a human and today I fight for them."

"I understand," Eragon pleaded, "but you cannot take him alone. It would be a death wish."

The old elf sighed. "I know what I am doing, Eragon."

"Move aside, laddie," Galbatorix scoffed.

But before Eragon could even respond a ray a black flew through the air, hitting Oromis square in the chest and knocking him onto the ground. Eragon reached out to help him, but Oromis quickly stood up, smiling all the while.

"Is that really the best you can do, Galbatorix?"

Without saying a word, a flash of gold erupted from the elf's palm and zoomed towards Galbatorix. Unfortunately he evaded it with ease.

"Hmm," he said, his evil smile focused towards Oromis, "that was a bit too easy. I'm going to do you a favor and kill you now before you have to humiliate yourself even further."

Oromis chuckled lightly and pulled out his sword. "Do what you'd like, Galbatorix, but I will not go down without a fight."

Without warning they both flung themselves towards each other, their black and golden blades clashing together with a bang. They moved so quickly that Eragon could only differentiate them by the golden and black wisps of their swords and magic. He watched in awe, almost forgetting how incredibly dangerous the battle was, as they fought. He had never seen Oromis move so quickly, nor had he ever imagined that Galbatorix was such a cunning warrior.

Suddenly Eragon felt Murtagh move next to him.

"I believe Oromis is trying to weaken Galbatorix for us," he murmured. "I fear that that pitiful excuse for a man is not in as bad a shape as we anticipated."

Eragon turned to him with wide eyes. "Do you think Oromis even expects to survive this battle?"

"Right now," Murtagh said, "I'd think not."

"I can't let him do this. I _won't_ let him die."

"It's too late for that now, I'm afraid," Murtagh replied, looking back at the small battle before them. Eragon focused his attention back on them, torn between interfering or letting Oromis do what he intended to do. Everything was happening so fast. He had no idea who had the upper hand. And this worried him to no end.

Suddenly, as quickly as it began, the battle stopped. Galbatorix slowly backed away from a perfectly still Oromis. The king was bent over, a hand on his chest, but a smile on his lips. Oromis had a blank expression on his face. Eragon looked at him in confusion. Then, in almost slow motion, his legs gave out and he fell to the ground. Glaedr's anguished roar sounded throughout the silent battlefield and Eragon knew that it was over.

He ran without hesitation to his teacher and fell to the ground, cradling Oromis' head in his lap. For the first time he noticed a gush of red fluid seeping through Oromis' armor; Galbatorix's sword had pierced his chest. Eragon let out a soft moan that was drowned out by another aching roar from Glaedr.

"Oromis," he cried, "can you hear me? Oromis, please! You cannot die. We need you here."

"Shhh," his master said suddenly, opening his eyes weakly and staring up at him.

"Oromis," he murmured.

"Leave me, Eragon," he said, his voice shaking as he struggled to speak. "I will be fine. You must destroy him before he can get to you."

"I will not leave you here to die," Eragon said firmly.

Oromis smiled weakly at him, closing his eyes very slowly. "You were always so stubborn. A bit annoying at times. Always asking questions… But you are brave. A true Dragon Rider. And you are ready to take him on. I believe in you, Eragon. You must promise that you will win this for me."

"I can make no promises," Eragon muttered, a tear slipping down his cheek as he looked at his fading master. "I need you to stick around and watch Oromis. I need your help."

"You do not need my help," Oromis murmured, "and you know that. My time here is up, Eragon. It is time for Glaedr and I to move on."

"You cannot," Eragon whispered, a lone tear dropping onto Oromis' armor.

"But we must." His voice was strained now and he struggled to breath. "Goodbye Eragon Shadeslayer. It has been an honor to know you."

"No," Eragon whispered as Oromis took his last breath.

"Well, well, how touching." Galbatorix stood a few feet away, watching them with a smile on his face. "Tell me, who will my next victim be?"

Eragon rose slowly, his mouth twisted with anger, Eiltahl in hand. Wordlessly he threw a spell towards the king, catching him by surprise. But the blue ray of light seemed to bounce off of him and flew back towards Eragon. He evaded it with ease and ran towards Galbatorix, his sword raised and ready for battle.

Their swords met in a swift motion and the battle began. Galbatorix was a worthy opponent. He matched Eragon's step with equal fervor and dodged Eragon's sword with ease.

"I am so sorry to disappoint you, boy," Galbatorix said as he swung his sword towards Eragon, narrowly evading Eragon's arm, "but I will not kill you. I am very sorry to admit that your dragon is of too much use to me."

"Well that's too bad," Eragon said, his sword striking Galbatorix's black armor, "because _I_ am going to kill you."

Galbatorix laughed as they continued striking at each other. They were matched equally in battle and nothing seemed to slow Galbatorix down. But slowly, the king pulled away from the fray. He stood still, his sword held up at the ready, but making no move to attack. Eragon stood equally still, staring at Galbatorix with hate and waiting for him to make the next move.

Suddenly he felt something moving in his mind, something that he had not expected.

_Eragon, block your mind! He is trying to enter!_ Saphira's voice filled Eragon's mind, but it was hard for him to hear her. He felt his eyes go cloudy and his palms began to sweat. He tried to put up a wall, anything to block him from entering, but it was of no use. Galbatorix was in. And he was going farther in than anyone ever had.

_Eragon, no!_

Saphira's voice was so far away. He could barely make out her voice. He was struggling to think, to figuring out what was happening. Flashes of people and memories filled his mind—the first time he flew on Saphira, Brom being enclosed in the great diamond tomb, he and Roran climbing a great oak tree when they were younger, sparring with Murtagh, Arya's lips on his… He tried desperately to block the memories, not wanted Galbatorix to see them. And then, without warning, an overwhelming pain overtake his body and he crumbled to the ground.

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Arya watched from the sidelines as Eragon stood frozen before Galbatorix. Her immediate reaction was to move, to defend him from that murderer, but Islanzadi put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

Then he was screaming in such agony that she had never heard before. And he fell to the ground, his hand covering his ears and sweat pouring down his face. It was as if the screaming would never end. She stood their, motionless, watching as he cried in pain. It was killing her. She could stand it no longer. Ignoring her mother, she ran towards him.

But a heavy hand stopped her, pulling her back with such force that she almost fell. Orik was standing there, one finger over his lips, telling her to be quiet. She looked at him as if he were crazy. How in the world could Orik expect her to not do anything at a moment like this? But before she could respond, he pointed towards Galbatorix and the figure looming behind him, sword lifted just above the king's head.

"Murtagh," she whispered, her eyes widening in awe. A few feet away, Nasuada stood with the same expression on her face.

Slowly he brought down the sword, ready to tear into Galbatorix's skull. With a sickening thud, Zar'roc met Galbatorix's head. Except it did not break into his skull. Instead it seemed to bounce off an invisible barrier. Arya groaned in annoyance, but the distraction was enough for Galbatorix to take his attention off of Eragon. And the screaming stopped. Eragon remained motionless on the ground.

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Murtagh couldn't help but be slightly frustrated at this not totally unexpected diversion, but was pleased that Eragon was now safe.

"You're going to have to do much better than that if you want to take me by surprise," Galbatorix said, a sneer forming on his face. "I heard you coming ages ago. Now, what do you think you are doing?"

"Killing you," Murtagh said, glaring at him with hatred stronger than any other.

"Is that so? Well, you have fun trying. This battle will be much more fun for me, though. You see, unlike that lad over there, I _can_ kill you. And rest assured, I _will_."

"You can certainly try, _your highness_," Murtagh scoffed. "But it will not happen."

Their blades met and they moved swiftly around each other, their swords matching each other perfectly.

"You're good," Galbatorix said, huffing as he blocked a blow.

"What can I say? I learned from you. How much are you regretting that now?" Murtagh laughed as he ducked and swung Zar'roc at Galbatorix's feet. The king jumped, evading the blow with ease. His black sword thrust towards Murtagh, who dipped out of the way just in time.

"To be truthful, Murtagh, I am regretting it quite a bit. But don't let that get to your head."

They fought with fury, none willing to give up. Murtagh's face was covered in sweat and his body was aching, but he fought with renewed strength, concentrating only on Galbatorix and his desire to kill the man he had hated for so long.

And then, in one second, Murtagh lost his footing, and he was on the ground, Galbatorix's sword pointed at his unarmed throat. A high-pitched cry came from somewhere behind him, but he only focused on Galbatorix's gleeful face.

"Hmm," Galbatorix sneered, beads of sweat falling down his face, "it looks like I've won. What a pity. You and I could've done so many great things together, Murtagh. We'd have made such a great team."

Murtagh looked at him, his hate for him flowing through every vein in his body. "I'd rather die than work with you again," he said, his voice strained as Galbatorix pushed the sword into his skin, just barely puncturing his skin. A small trickle of blood slid down his neck.

"Well, it looks like that is how it is going to happen, my friend." He grinned and raised up four fingers. "Let's see, three Dragon Riders taken care of, one more to go." Galbatorix glanced over at his right to look at, Murtagh assumed, Arya. "Well, it has been very wonderful knowing you, Murtagh. For the most part, at least."

He lifted his sword, his foot on Murtagh's chest holding him down, and in that moment Murtagh knew it was over. He heard screaming, people running towards them, prepared to take Galbatorix down, but Galbatorix had formed a shield around them both, forming a small perimeter around them.

Galbatorix's smile grew as he raised his sword. Slowly it fell towards Murtagh's neck. He closed his eyes, wishing that his last few moments could be spent with Thorn next to him. He waited for the inevitable blow. It was as if time had stopped. Everything went silent. Would it hurt? He wasn't sure, but he hoped that it would be quick and painless. Most of all he hoped that the Varden would overcome their losses and that Arya, and hopefully Eragon too, would be able to take down the unstoppable king.

He waited for death to come. It was taking forever. Much too long. Suddenly sound came rushing back to him and a deafly cheer arose around him. He opened his eyes. Above him, with a look of pure terror, stood Galbatorix. In his chest, right through the heart, was the tip of a glistening sapphire blade and behind him stood Eragon, proud and tall, a triumphant smile on his young face.

Murtagh sat up, gripping Zar'roc tightly, and moved to the side. Galbatorix took a deep breath, his sword falling from his hands, and slowly toppled over. He landed on his knees, Eragon's sword still piecing his chest. Murtagh stood, raising Zar'roc for the final blow.

"Thank you, brother," he said, grinning towards Eragon who smiled and slowly pulled his sword out of its victim.

"Do it," was all Eragon said.

And so he did. The red blade, used for both evil and good during its lifetime, sliced through Galbatorix's neck, leaving only the bloody stump of one of the most evil tyrants of their time. Cheers, even louder than before, sounded around him and his brother.

It was finished. The battle was won. And the Varden had been victorious.

**A/N: **There you have it. And of course good triumphs over evil :D. Please let me know what you all think about the battle! Sorry about killing Oromis, by the way, I know a lot of you were hoping he'd live. The way I see it, and I'm sure many of you agree, it's kind of inevitable. There's only one chapter to go now (and in it you'll be learning about a few other deaths). I know it's sad, but it's just how it's got to be.

Sorry it's taken me so long to get this up. It looks like I'm starting a new fan fic, which is why I put off this chapter for so long. The bad news, though, is that it's a One Tree Hill fic, so I'm not sure a lot of you will be into to it unless you watch the show. I'm still debating on posting it, but if I do I won't have much time for any Eragon fics. However, once Brisingr comes out I think I'm going to have a lot of new inspiration, so you never know, maybe I'll have a few new Eragon fics coming out this year?

Thanks for sticking with me everyone! This is the final stretch and it can only get better from here!


	28. Chapter 28

It was almost as if the world had stopped.

He stood there, his grip on his sword slowly loosening until it finally slipped from his hands, and stared down at the broken man below him.

It was over. It was truly and finally done with. The Varden had won and Galbatorix had been overthrown. It was done.

"Eragon…"

He turned to look at the sound of the familiar voice and suddenly his heart was filled with an overwhelming happiness.

"Arya," he murmured, pulling her body close to his and relishing the touch. Throughout the battle he'd barely had time to check on her and Eridor and, although he knew they were fine on their on, it was a relief to know that they had survived, that they were still standing here today.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly, bringing her hand up to his cheek.

He nodded slowly and grinned. "I feel better than I ever have."

A small smile overtook her face and, before he could say anything else, she kissed him with more passion than ever before. It didn't even matter that there were hundreds and hundreds of people probably watching them right; all that mattered was the feel of her lips against his.

Everything was amazingly perfect.

"Way to steal the show."

Eragon pulled away from slowly, letting their lips hover gently over the other for a small second before turning to his brother.

"Sorry," he said, grinning at the sight Murtagh's beaming face. Nasuada was standing next to him, her arm linked through his, and she too wore a huge smile. He turned to look at Arya, who was rolling her eyes at Murtagh's comment, and lightly kissed her forehead.

"Well, this place is a complete mess," Murtagh said, motioning to the battlefield around him. "It looks like we've got a lot of work ahead of us."

Eragon turned to look at his surroundings, his gaze quickly finding the huge golden dragon laying perfectly still only a hundred or so feet away. He sighed heavily, sadness enveloping his heart, as he strode towards Glaedr. Oromis was laid out peacefully on the ground a few feet away from his faithful dragon. Eragon looked at them both and bowed his head in respect. Glaedr and Oromis had been his and Saphira's teachers, but they had also been more than that; they were their mentors and their friends. And it killed Eragon to lose them, but he knew that their deaths had not been in vain.

"We will have to give them a proper funeral," Arya murmured, placing her hand in his. She squeezed it comfortingly.

"Yes," he agreed, "a funeral fit for a Rider."

Eragon turned away from the great dragon and his Rider and turned to his own dragon. Saphira stood proudly next to Eridor and Thorn, looking on at them with a great mixture of sadness and joy.

_We did it_, Eragon said, beaming at her.

_You did so wonderfully_, she murmured, bending her neck down and nudging him softly with her snout. _I am so unbelievably proud of you, little one._

_Thank you, Saphira, but you know that I could have never done this without you._

_We are a team_, she agreed, _and I could not have chosen a better partner_.

Eragon felt a deep rush of both gratitude and an overwhelming love at her words and he knew she was right. Saphira was apart of him now, and he knew that he could not live without her by his side.

"I have to ask, Eragon," Murtagh said, coming up behind him, "how did you do it? Galbatorix had put the strongest barrier around himself. No one should have been able to get through it."

"Well," Eragon said, grinning widely, "I _shouldn't _have been able to get through it, and I definitely _didn't_ get through it. He was actually standing right next to me when he cast the spell. I was lying right at his feet, only a few feet from you. So, in his haste, he cast the spell around me, therefore bringing around his downfall."

Arya's eyes narrowed. "I dread to think of what could have happened if Galbatorix had not been so…"

"Stupid?" Murtagh said, finishing her sentence. She laughed lightly and nodded. "Yes," he continued, "so do I."

"I say that we let the past stay in the past and celebrate the present," Nasuada said. "Let us be thankful that we made it out alive and whole, ready to move on to a brand new future."

"Well said, My Lady," a voice said from behind them.

"Roran!" Eragon said, relief sweeping through his body. His cousin was alive and well and Eragon could not be happier. He brought Roran into a hug, not caring if the action made him look immature in any way; he was just glad that Roran survived.

"Yes, yes, I have survived!" Roran said, chuckling as Eragon pulled away. "You were brilliant out there, Eragon. And Murtagh, I don't think you could have done any better. That looked like some fancy magic back there. I was worried half to death for you both. But you two have saved the day, and now our future has never looked so bright."

Eragon chuckled and patted his cousin on the back. "Thank you, Roran, but from what I saw you did quite amazing out there as well. "

Roran shrugged. "I did what I could."

"Shadeslayer!" another voice called out to them. Orrin strode towards them, a huge smile on his face. "I am so glad to see you are well. After everything that has happened I would have expected you to pass out right here at this very moment. Do you not need any medical attention?"

"I am quite well, thank you, King Orrin." And it was the truth. He knew that any second now the effects of Galbatorix's toying with his mind would make its presence known, but for now his mind was so incredibly clear that he had never felt any better. The headaches would soon come, but now he was most definitely quite well.

"Good, good," Orrin grinned, turning quickly to Nasuada and his face turned suddenly businesslike. "We have much to discuss, My Lady, most important of which being who we shall choose to reign all of Alagaësia."

"Yes," Nasuada murmured, "of course. But we have had a long and trying day. Let us sleep tonight and tomorrow we shall make plans for our future."

"If that is what you wish," Orrin said, nodding slowly, "then that is what will happen. If you want my opinion, though, I think you would make an excellent queen, Nasuada. Perhaps you should consider it."

She shook her head and Eragon already knew her answer. "I have no desire at all to rule over this land. I would like whomever we choose at least _want_ to do it, don't you agree?"

"Of course," Orrin said, smiling lightly. "Well, I bid you all goodnight. I shall see you tomorrow, bright and early."

Eragon watched him slowly retreat before turning back to the others. He wondered who they would choose to take over as king or queen of Alagaësia. Nasuada certainly seemed like the obvious choice, but that wasn't an option anymore. Murtagh would make an excellent king but, judging by the way things were going with Nasuada, he wouldn't want to lead her into that position. Himself and Arya were out of the question; they would be needed to help build up the Dragon Riders and would have no time to rule. Besides, he doubted Arya had any desire to rule any sort of country, including her own.

His gaze swept over to Roran. Now _he_ was definitely an option. He had incredible leadership skills and a loyalty to his people like no other. He would make an excellent king. Eragon smiled to himself; yes, he would definitely bring up Roran's name tomorrow when they started discussing plans for the future.

"Arya!"

Eragon laughed at the sound of Arya's groan next to him. Garrik was walking swiftly towards them, a look of exaggerated relief spread across his face.

"I am so glad to see you are well," he said, taking her hands in his and kissing her knuckles. She quickly pulled them away and smiled stiffly.

"Thank you, Garrik," she said shortly. "It is good to see you are well, too."

"If you don't mind, Garrik," Eragon said, taking Arya's hand back in his, "we've all had a long day and we are in dire need of some proper sleep. We will see you tomorrow."

With that he pulled Arya along with him, winking back at Nasuada and Murtagh and leaving a stunned Garrik behind.

"Thanks," Arya muttered, as they walked towards their dragons.

They jumped on their respective dragons quickly and Saphira and Eridor rose gracefully into the air, flying towards their camp. As he looked down at the battered city below him, he did not find anxiety or anger; for the first time he found hope. Hope for a new beginning and a new future, with both Saphira and Arya by his side. It was wonderful to think about and, even though he knew that their would always be struggles in his life and probably many more tyrants who wished to take over the world, he knew that he could overcome them.

After all he was Eragon Shadeslayer, son of Brom, Rider of Saphira, and he was ready to take on anything that came his way.

_The End_

**A/N:** Cheesy ending, I know. I couldn't really help it, though, ;D…Probably a bit rushed too… I know it took me awhile to get this up here and I'm so incredibly sorry! I also know that there are about a gazillion things I didn't cover in this story that are going to be covered in the third book (i.e. the Vault of Souls) but I decided to just end it here and let Christopher deal with all that. I know that this ending is probably a bit disappointing for a lot of you, but…well it's not the real book, so at least you'll know that _Brisingr_ is going to be about ten billion times better than this, right? lol.

Thank you all so much for reading! It was really an amazing experience writing this story. To all my faithful reviewer: you guys are amazing and I can tell you right now that if it wasn't for you, this story would not be finished. So, thank you all for letting me post this story and for accepting it with open arms. It was a very humbling experience and, who know? Maybe you'll get a sequel…I can't promise anything right now, but keep your fingers crossed!

So, for one final time, thank you all for everything. It has been a great ride and I'm so glad I could share it with you!


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